Memoirs of a Ravenclaw
by missusXwicked
Summary: You've heard it from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Now hear it from the heart of a girl whose sound mind is about all she has going for her.
1. Meet Dahlia

All things Harry Potter are credited to J.K.Rowling, but you already knew that.

I honestly think our common room is the best looking at Hogwarts. Its silky midnight blue hangings and circular, domed shape make me think of a Greek palace. It's especially nice early in the morning when the sky is not pink yet but a light, misty blue. It is during this time of day that our spectacular view of the mountains looks best. The mist hanging low over the bluish peaks makes them look so mysterious and ancient.

My favorite thing to do is to come down from my dormitory, at this precise time, and sit in our beautiful common room. There's never any set way I do this. Sometimes I'll sit in one of our large, squashy armchairs. Other times I'll lean against the window. But always, I am staring out at those majestic mountains.

This, I feel, is the best time for brooding, daydreaming, or any other form of thought. For one's mind is inexplicably, utterly clear of the excess nonsense that clogs it at the height of the day. All is quiet, all is serene, and the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw smiles down at me. That knowing smile of hers. You see, she and I know the same thing. We are part of a select group of people who all recognize this truth.

"_Wit beyond measure is Man's greatest treasure."_

And it's perfectly true. We here in Ravenclaw find that you can never know too much. There is always something new to explore, to learn, or to do. And you can do it; if only you keep an open mind.

Hi, my name is Dahlia. Dahlia Blakely. I attend Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, am obviously in Ravenclaw house and would like to tell my side of the story. You may be thinking, "Uh, yeah, hi. Who the hell are you?" To answer your question, I am in fact, nobody. But I'm here. If you want to know it from Harry, Ron, or Hermione, pick up another book. For these are not the memoirs of some great Gryffindor hero, nor those of a cruel Slytherin. These are memoirs of a different kind.

A few quick facts about this nobody:

Date of Birth: February 14

Star Sign: Aquarius

Wand stats: Sakura, 16 inches, Dragon heartstring

Favorite subject: Potions

Least Favorite subject: Herbology

Position on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team: Beater

Hair: Blue-Black, 3.5 feet long, volumeless/ flat

Eyes: Turquoise blue, Deep set

Skin: Latte colored

Height: 5 feet, 6 inches

Nationality: Native American/ Scottish

Father's house/blood status: Slytherin, Pure blood

Mother's house/blood status: Ravenclaw, Half-blood

Well I won't bore you with all the details of my early life. Before Hogwarts, my life was pretty simplistic and not even remotely interesting. I lived in a small cabin in the Sierras with my mother when I wasn't going to my old school (The Salem Witches institute) and I had only the giant sequoias for company. I wasn't unhappy though, I liked my quiet life. The most I had to worry about was homework. But sadly, it didn't last. My mother was dying. She started getting sick when I was thirteen. None of the healers that came to see her could figure it out. She was vomiting constantly and suffered skull smashing headaches almost every night. Then one day, when I was in my fourth year, a teacher pulled me out of class to tell me that my mother had died in her sleep that morning.

The next couple of months were blurry; I couldn't describe them even if I wanted to. I remember my father, tall and smart, with his slightly crooked jaw coming for me. I remember being taken away from my cozy little cabin to a large and empty manor house in frigid Scotland. My father wasn't unkind though. He simply treated me like a guest. We exchanged polite niceties, but nothing more. We spoke not of my dead mother.

My father left me to wander the long, dark, marble hallways by myself. There were so many rooms it was hard for me to choose which ones to waste away in. I rarely saw my father outside his study except at mealtimes. We had three house elves. Dinky was the only elfette, and the one I liked talking to the most. She had enormous black eyes, a minuscule button of a nose, and a high squeaky voice that made me utterly fond of her. I would wander down to the kitchen sometimes and talk to her. She told me that this manor was ancient, and had been in the family for centuries. Sometimes it had been very full, and every room was occupied. Other times, (like the time that I spent there) it was nearly empty.

The house itself was planted in the middle of a huge, misty forest. I would look out the bay windows and see nothing but dark green foliage for miles around. There was a library, but most of its books were written in languages I couldn't comprehend. There was also a huge white marble ballroom which was sparkling clean but had a slightly neglected feeling. Most of the other rooms were either forbidden to me or didn't contain anything very interesting. My room was on the second floor. It was obviously the room meant for the first child. It was large, yet not larger than the master bedroom, which I had gotten a peek of. My room was grand, beautiful, and looked expensive but it lacked the certain kind of warmth that the cabin had. It was cold and dead looking, even though the walls were brightly colored. I lied in that huge bed every night, feeling like I was in a hotel. Staring up at the white silky canopy, I wondered how much longer I'd have to be here. I only had to wonder for a few weeks though.

One pale gray morning, I sat at the table with my father, eating my toast and eggs in silence, as usual. Then he cleared his throat loudly and looked down the long mahogany buffet at me.

"Dahlia," he said with an air of one addressing a wayward employee. "The headmaster of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry will be coming to see you this evening. I want you in the drawing room at six sharp, understood?"

"Yes father." I said in a dry, learned voice.

"Very good."

It was five till six until I remembered that I needed to be somewhere. I gave my hair a quick brush (which is saying something, considering that my hair is over three feet long) and threw on the clothes that I had laid out that morning.

I dashed down the spiral staircase, straightening my blouse as I went. I threw open the drawing room door, dashed inside, plopped down on the moth eaten sofa, and had just managed to compose my face into a comfortable look, when the door opened.

In walked, the strangest man I had ever laid eyes on. He wore a spectacular set of midnight blue robes, and a look on his face that suggested he knew more then I ever would in this lifetime. His long white hair and beard poured down, and perched precariously on his head was a matching blue velvet wizard's hat. He looked, in short, like what all Muggle children in the world think wizards look like. He strolled toward me, smiling pleasantly.

"Dahlia," he said, shaking my hand. "I am Professor Dumbledore, and may I say I am delighted to see that you made it in here in time."

I felt blotchy heat crawl up my cheeks.

"Uh…yeah..."

He just smiled.

"Now, to business I'm afraid. Hogwarts does not usually accept transfer students this late in their school years, but as your father so kindly reminded me, both of your parents attended Hogwarts and you had your name down as well, until your mother moved you to the Americas."

Here he cast a look behind him, and I saw my father standing, framed in the doorway, watching closely. He turned back to me and continued,

"Normally when students join Hogwarts, there is a Sorting ceremony. During which this hat—" he pulled a dirty grubby, old hat from within his robes "—will sort you into your house. Under normal circumstances this is done in front of the entire student body, but I thought, given your unusual situation, you would prefer to do it in private. So, without further ado—" and he dropped the old hat onto my head where it slipped down over my eyes. It had been there a fraction of a second when it bellowed "RAVENCLAW!" so loudly that my ears were ringing. I felt Dumbledore take the hat off, and when I looked up, I saw that my father had left the doorway.

"Good, good." He said, looking pleased as he put the hat back in his robe pocket. He then withdrew a letter sealed in scarlet wax.

"Here are your booklists for this year. On the second piece of parchment are the details for when term starts, along with your train ticket. Good luck and I hope to see you there." He finished, and with a generous smile, shook my hand again. He turned and swept from the room, his long cloak billowing behind him. After a moment, I got up and went to the hallway to watch Dumbledore depart, but he had already gone. Wondering why and where my father had gone, I went back to my room, the letter clutched tight to my chest.

The next morning I went down to breakfast to find my father sitting there, very upright, and not eating. I sat down, looking nervous.

"We'll be going to Diagon Alley to get your school things today; we need to hurry, though because Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are coming to dinner tonight, along with several other guests." My father said in a dull, rehearsed way. I had no idea who the Malfoys were, didn't know why my father needed hours to prepare for their visit, and frankly didn't care very much either.

"How long will it take us?" I asked curiously.

"Well, if we do it _right_ it shouldn't take us more than two hours." He said sternly, as though he knew me to dawdle. I stared at him from my end of the table insolently. How exactly was the "_right_" way? He got up from the table, looking irritated and harassed, and said shortly,

"Your breakfast." And with a flick of his wand, a large plate of French toast appeared before me, complete with syrup.

"Hurry and eat that, then meet me in the foyer." He said, and then disappeared behind the dining room door.

I ate slowly, knowing that it would irritate my father. When I was sure that every last crumb was gone from my plate, I shrugged on my hoodie and went out into the large marble foyer, where my father was looking irate.

"Thank you for joining us," he said snidely. It was all I could do to suppress a smirk.

"No problem." I said, as though I were doing him a favor.

He said nothing but wrenched open the great double doors and stepped out into the misty morning. I followed him to the end of the wide, twisting drive where nothing but a lonely lamppost stood on the main road. He turned around and said brusquely,

"Now grab my arm, and hold on tight."

Having traveled by Side Along apparition before, I raised no objections. It was more the fact that I was touching my father that made me feel strange. The unpleasant sensation of apparition made it no better.

I let go of my fathers elbow, stumbling a bit, in the middle of a crowded pub. My father nodded at the barman, then steered me out to a small, dingy square. He tapped a certain brick three times with his wand, and there appeared an archway leading to Diagon Alley.

I'll admit, even I was impressed by that place. I would've liked to have stayed longer and examined every little thing I came across, but my father seemed intent on getting out of there quickly. One good thing that came out of my father's need for speed was that he was willing to buy me anything I wanted so long as he bought it quickly. Therefore by the end of the trip, I had gained a Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One, silky azure dress robes, and a tiny black kitten with bright green eyes. Feeling very cheerful, (despite my fathers anxious and petulant mood) I went 'home' smiling serenely.

Upon entering, the house elves rushed over to relieve me of my packages, and I went upstairs, clasping Bones (that's what I decided to call my kitten) to my chest.

I would've been quite happy to sit up in my room and play with Bones while my father was entertaining, but he wasn't going to have it. ("You are my daughter now and you will sit and eat with the rest of us!") So with a sigh, I went down into the dining room, wearing the same plain skirt and blouse that I had worn for Dumbledore.

When I entered, all talking died immediately, and every member of the table was staring at me avidly. There was a stately witch and wizard sitting on either side of my father, both with silvery blonde hair and slight sneers on their faces. A plump witch sat a little ways away (my first impression was that of a very squat toad) and a bustling, pompous looking man with a lime green bowler.

"So," said the tall blonde man. "This is her is it?" he queried of my father.

My father looked slightly embarrassed and jerked his head irritably. The man turned to me and scanned me up and down, his sneer becoming more pronounced.

"You look very much like _Sedna_." He said finally. I could tell, by the way he said my mother's name that he knew she was a half blood. My father looked uncomfortable.

"However, she does show traits of the Blakely line." He said kindly to my father, as his grey eyes flickered to my turquoise ones.

"Lovely, lovely." Said The Pompous man contentedly. The other man continued to sneer. I took my seat at the far end of the table, specifically separating myself. I did not like one person at the table. They talked ab0ut things I didn't have much interest in, and when my plate was clean I got up to leave the table. My father threw me a sharp look and I sat down. He turned back towards the conversation.

"….well as always, Potter managed to worm his way out of punishment again." The Toady woman was telling my father.

"Dumbledore rescued him from expulsion of course." said The Pompous man furiously.

"Dumbledore was here last night." I piped up. The table fell silent at once and The Pompous man looked at me sharply.

"He was, was he?" he asked. My father looked disgruntled.

"Well yes, he sorted m—"

"—Trying to spy on Ministry employees no doubt!" The Pompous man roared. The Toady woman's eyes bulged even wider as she lowered her already high pitched voice dramatically,

"I expect he was trying to work out some kind of deal with our Head of Department of Magical Transportation, Minister! Trying to get the Hogwarts fires to be unwatched!"

"Yes! Yes! I expect he was!" The Pompous man said excitedly. "Seth! Did Dumbledore try to pull a few strings for his precious Hogwarts?"

I was wondering who Seth was when my father answered,

"No, I showed him to the door shortly after his arrival."

"Ah…" said The Pompous man, slightly put out. I stared at my father. I had never heard his first name before.

Soon afterward, the adults adjourned to the sitting room, each shaking my hand before they left; the blonde man still wearing what I assumed was his uniform sneer.

I returned to my room where I found Bones playing in my draperies. I watched him for a while, thinking about how little I knew of my father. I heard the front door slam and I got up to look out my window. I saw our four guests trumping down the long and twisted drive. I decided to go and see what my father was doing.

He was down in the dining room, watching the elves clearing the dishes away with his usual look of seriousness.

"So you're the head of The Department of Magical Transportation, huh?" I asked interestedly.

"What? Oh, yes. Yes I am." He said distractedly.

"And your name is Seth."

He looked annoyed.

"Yes, why?"

"I just never knew that."

His expression did not soften, and he turned to leave.

"What else don't I know?" I called to his back. He ignored me and walked on, slamming his study door. I went back up to my room and thought about how much I missed my dead mother.

Tune in Next time for Chapter 2 of Memoirs of a Ravenclaw!


	2. Changes

My dead mother Sedna was a half blood. She was a woman of little words, and many many gestures. But always it was her eyes that betrayed her emotions. Her eyes were large, round, deep brown and captivating. Her hair was just as long, thick, and silky as mine. Indeed I had inherited many of her atributes. We had the same heart shaped face, the same hands, the same build and height. So like her I was and yet she always said that I reminded her of my father. It must have been my eyes. No matter how soft I tried to make my gaze, it always appeared as hard and cold as blue ice.

I sighed as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I saw my mother looking back at me, except for my eyes. What torture it was to not have her near me. Never again would she come through my bedroom door and bring joy and hope with her again. I would never feel her lay a hand on my shoulder to comfort me anymore. Now I was alone. Yes, my father would clothe me, feed me, and keep me from the cold outside. Yet I knew he would never offer warmth, affection, or love. I was indeed alone, on the inside.

The last few weeks of the summer passed, dully, with nothing of note occuring. On the morning of September first, my father roused me by way of shouting. I had not slept very much due to nerves, and so was slow getting up. I listened to the sounds of the birds outside as I looked upon the sun for the first time in years it seemed. Gray, always it was gray here.

I was soon dashing about, trying on different clothes to see which I looked best in. I finally decided on a pair of faded jeans, a black sweater and dainty ballet flats, also black. This must be said for me, I loved Muggle clothes. They were awfully creative with their garments, and they should be, as you can only do so much with robes. I put Bones into his leash and harness (he hated his carrier) and led him downstairs.

Out into the weak morning sunlight, we went, my cat and I. My father was waiting at the end of the drive beside my trunk. He was looking flustered and as though he thought he had much better things to do today than take his daughter to London. He wore a grim expression when I reached him in any case. In the chilly morning we waited, not speaking to each other, and not looking each other's way.

Soon a large, purple, triple decker bus appeared out of the mist and was thundering toward us. I am speaking, of course, of the Knight Bus, though at the time I wasn't aware of it. A young man with pitiful acne stepped out and lugged my trunk onto the bus with great difficulty. After my father paid, I walked all the way up to the third deck and sat in the very back. The veiw might have been nice if I could catch more than a glimpse of it. The bus sped all up and down the country, weaving around cars, mailboxes, and anything else foolish enough to get in its way. Bones did not enjoy the ride very much, though I was having a blast being thrown about.

All too soon we arrived at King's Cross station and I bid Stan Shunpike farewell as we walked into the train depo. As always when I am in the presence of Muggles, I feel a distinct separation and awkwardness. I smiled at the ones who were kind enough to say "Excuse me" or "Morning". My father just ignored them.

When I passed through the barrier at platform Nine and Three-Quarters, I felt myself passing through my old life and coming into a new one. I felt the little girl who played in the clear mountain stream with her loving mother dissapear. I was only a Blakely now. Seth Blakelys' dutiful daughter. Not belonging to Sedna Skyhart anymore.

The scarlet steam engine gleamed, and I looked on at the other students. They were jubilantly meeting old friends, hugging their parents goodbye, and trying to keep their wayward pets under control. I felt separated from this group. Knowing nobody and wanting to so badly. I glanced at my father and was suprised to see my previous expression mirrored on his face. He was looking at them as an outsider; someone who didn't belong.

Bones mewed and trid to frantically reach the other cats he heard yowling loudly, confined to baskets or an owners' arms. I turned to my father, wondering if he would say goodbye. My father didn't look at me right away, seeming absorbed in his own thoughts. Then his eyes snapped to mine and he suddenly looked embarassed and uncomfortable.

"Well, " he began.

"Goodbye, father." I said in a voice that didn't belong to me.

"Yes, goodbye then." And then he actually hugged me. He let go quickly and stepped away as though I were a sick person. "Have a good term." he called as I got onto the train. I waved to show I'd heard him.

As I walked through the corridor, dragging my trunk with one hand, and carrying Bones in the other, I could'nt help but feel a little happier. For today was the first time my father had shown that he considered me a daughter and not an annoying house guest. I peeked into the windows of all the compartments, but the faces who stared back at me were not friendly. It was during the time I spent wandering the corridors that I caught my first glimpse of Harry Potter. He was sitting, bored apparently, with three other people. The first one I noticed had his behind sticking out from under the seat, looking for something. The next was blonde, and reading a magazine upside down. The thrid was red-headed and had a relatively pretty face. Harry himself was a bit on the short side, with black hair, and green eyes. Not a jaw dropping stud, but ok looking. Of course I didn't really know who he was at the time; he didn't strike me as special in any case.

I Finally found a compartment with room and also with kind faces residing in it. I sat down and wondered why these students were so short. Then I realized...they were first years. They looked intimidated by me and fell silent as I sat down. I was rather embarassed sitting with these young children, but I tried not to let that show, lest I hurt their feelings.

"You guys excited?" I asked cheerfully. They nodded, looking grateful that I wasn't mean. "I know I am." I continiued, looking out the window.

"You're American." said the one sitting nearest me icredulously.

"That's right." I said.

This spurred further questions from them, and by the early afternoon I had won their trust. We talked about what it might be like at Hogwarts, I gave them tips about spell usage and we even got around to practicing the simple spell _wingardium leviosa. _The first years I sat with that day were called Dorian, Ruby, Lonna, and Ike. Ruby was apropriately red headed, and had a very vibrant and animated personality. Ike had straw colored hair and was surprisingly cheerful and up-beat. Lonna, who was black, had a soft little bird twitter voice, and was exceptionally bright. I liked her the best, I must confess. Dorian was the most perplexing...he was both charming and clever, although he was distinctly cold and he reminded me of my father.

After the snack cart came by, we were all laughing, enjoying ourselves, wrapped up in our excitement. Then the compartment door slid open. When the young man entered, one name sprang to my mind, _Malfoy_. I don't know how I knew it, but this was surely the child of the pale man and woman at my fathers' house. We said nothing, only looked at him. The hulking, surly shadows behind him turned out to be two other boys. Boys that put Muggle army tanks in my mind. The young Malfoy glanced around and built up the first years' fear by smiling cruelly.

"Do you know who I am?" He had directed his question at Lonna, who had been stricken silent, and merely shook her head. "I am a prefect. Do you know what that means?" this time he was directing his query at Ike, who had turned a sick green sort of color and shook his head. "That means," he went on, satisfied with the reaction of his audience "That you will do what I say, or you will be very sorry..." and here the Tanks cracked their knuckles threateningly. It was all a very good act in my mind, though, when they reached for our remaining sweets (which _I_ paid for) I felt I needed to put an end to it.

"No Malfoy, I don't think so," I said, standing up. He whirled around to face me, looking surprised that I knew his his name.

"Who are _you_?" he asked rudely, his cool and wicked demeanor discarded. "I've never seen you before..."

"My name is Dahlia Blakely, and you will leave them alone this instant!" I fired.

He narrowed his eyes, clearly noticing my accent. Then oddly, he didn't put me in detention, or hex me, but turned, beckoned to his Tanks, and left. I sat down, wondering why he hadn't fought back. I realized that he backed down only when he'd heard my name. Hmm. Maybe being a Blakely wasn't so bad after all...

The convorsation was subdued after that, and the first years spent more time talking amongst themselves as I was lost in thought. What is true about a person? Can a person change as the leaves change colors and still be the same person? Could I assume the role of the cold Blakely line and still be my mothers' daughter? Being a Blakely obviously commanded a lot of respect to those in power. Could I use that to my advantage? But why would I even want to? Am I really like my father? Such questions I had in my head as the day slipped into night.

I noticed that my young companions, though they were very different in personality, got on extremely well. They all laughed and talked as though they were not so different, and even Dorian seemed to enjoy their company. I smiled; for some reason this made me very happy.

We reached the station, and Bones wasn't very pleased with the loud and raucous movement as people rushed off the train. I waved goodbye to my little friends as they headed towards the call of "First years, this way please!" I had to stuff Bones into his carrier, his mewing cries of distress carrying far. I got into the first carrige that wasn't full. I didn't speak to the other students in the carrige and they didn't speak to me. I found out later that they were Hufflepuff fourth years, though that is of little consequence.

I left my baggage in the carrige as I saw the other students doing, and followed the throng, not knowing where to go. Hogwarts was really an amazing place in comparison to my old school. My old school was a large mansion that was bigger on the inside than the outside would suggest. It was an all girls school, in other words, boring. The teachers were also female, and had very little patience for anything so time wasting as fun. I could just tell by looking at the castle with its' huge towers and turrets, that Hogwarts was a place of mystery and adventure.

Into the Great Hall we swept, an ocean of black-clad youth. I saw the four long tables and remembered that I belonged to one of them. But which one? I scanned them, looking for some sign of recognition. I looked down at my own uniform and saw the shield of Ravenclaw upon the left side of my chest. I looked for the table bearing this same distinguishing mark, and lo! It was the one I stood right in front of. I sat down, to many odd stares. I was about sick of this by far, and so without the slightest hesitation I launched into my story. After the initial shock wore off, my fellow Ravenclaws were gracious and curious about my circumstances. Funnily enough I had chosen a seat close to Miss Cho Chang, and soon we found out we had quite a bit in common. Lovers of Quidditch, Potions, Exploding snap, Cats, and we even looked something alike with our long black hair. Cho was to be my friend from now on.

Soon the first years trooped into the hall, looking nervous beyond belief. I spotted my four in a tight group and waved enthusiastically. This earned me a few questioning looks from my older companions, but I didn't care as I gave my four the thumbs up. They all smiled meekly back at me, obviously eaten up by nerves. Suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me and I turned my head instinctively in their direction. I saw the young Malfoy's grey eyes for a split second before they skipped away. I frowned and turned my head towards the front again.

The first years had lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.

The first years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. My four were stony faced as they looked at the hat. I had forewarned them about the battered hat, and so I suppose they were not as nervous as their fellows. A strange silence had crept into the hall. Everyones' eyes were upon the hat. Suddenly---

_In times of old when I was new And Hogwarts barely started _

_The founders of our noble school Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_'Together we will build and teach!'_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might some day be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest.'_

_Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest.'_

_Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,'_

_Said Hufflepuff, I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same.'_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with duelling and with jighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though / must fulfil my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…_

_Let the Sorting now begin._

While the rest of my classmates seemed confused and startled, I really didn't mind at the time. I was just glad the thing hadn't sung when it was in my house. The first of my four to be sorted was,

"Bellany, Ruby."

Moments later the hat cried,

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

The table farthest left exploded into applause, with loud yells and whoops included. The next was,

"Istari, Dorian."

Quiet Dorian, who looked the calmest of my four, made his way gracefully to the stool.

_"SLYTHERIN!" _

As the table on the far right cheered and clapped this time, Dorian threw a sad, wistful look at Ruby. She, in turn, smiled encouragingly at him. Seeing this little exchange made my mouth twitch...ah, puppy love. The next of my four to approach the stool was,

"Peterson, Ike."

Ike marched up to the stool, with a strange expression of his face somewhere between nausea and excitement.

"_HUFFLEPUFF!"_

A small bomb seemed to have exploded at the table next to us. I resisted the temptation to cover my ears.

I waited and watched as the line of first years thinned, until only three were standing. My Lonna, with her twittery birds voice, looked ever more fearful as the boy standing next to her became a Gryffindor. She seemed to be holding her breath when the sharp looking woman finally called her name.

"Vanyar, Lonna."

The hat sat there longer then it had with my other three. Finally, it shouted,

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

_No, it can't be,_ I thought as my table broke into applause. The entirety of my four had been sorted into different houses. I finally came out of my surprise long enough to clap for Lonna as she sat with the other new students at the far end of the table. The last girl was then sorted and the strawberry blonde, frizzy haired girl next to me said,

"Thank God, I'm starving."

I was of course, hungry too, but the thrill of this first experience kept my complaints at bay. Dumbledore stood. I was used to his appearence, but the fact that he had actually spoken to me directly and had been inside my drawing room made him seem all the more strange.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice. My hunger came rushing back to me and hit me full on, so that I felt I had been punched in my stomach. I dove into the food with customary American indecency. I was delighted by the British food, especially the savory pies.

"In America," I said factually to my fellows, "we only have sweet pies. Apple, Pecan, Lemon Meringue and so fourth. The only pie even remotely like this is Chicken Pot pie. And to be honest, it is really very disgusting."

And so the conversation revolved around the food differences of our nations. I was the only authority on the subject of American food and they hung on my every word. Secretly, this thrilled me. I took their obvious intrest in stride though, for I was never one to be prideful, or arrogant.

As the feasting died down and the talking wound up, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start of term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too."

I listened attentively to the start of term notices, Cho offering whispered tidbits from time to time. I was startled to see that the Toady woman had become a professor here. Yet another person who had been in my father's house.

Dumbledore continued,

"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the--"

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, (_'Hem_, _hem_,') and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

The Toady womans' girly high pitched voice was so awful it made me feel like I had a bad taste in my mouth. My fellow Ravenclaws seemed to feel the same way. So naturally, we started talking about other things.

"Dahlia, are you going to try out for our team?" Cho asked. "We need a new beater, since Rhys left...last...year." She finished the sentance slowly. Suddenly, her eyes turned bleak and cold as she stared off into space. She didn't even seem to hear me when I said,

"Y'know, that doesn't sound too bad."

She blinked, and gave me what she must have thought was a warm smile. Her other friends exchanged signifigant looks. I knew not why last year seemed to disturb Cho so much, so I simply gave back to her an understanding smile. She noticed my understanding and this seemed to upset her even more, so that she struck up convorsation with forced enthusiasm again.

As I lay on my bed with it's blue silk hangings, staring above me, I couldn't help but feel rather at home. I had only been here a few hours and yet I felt this was more home than my fathers' house. I couldn't explain it. Then I realized that I didn't want to know why. I smiled as I rolled onto my side and sleep crept over me.


	3. Hogwarts High

_Third chapter Notes: I decided to go with the school uniform from the movies instead of the books because I find the ones from the books a little boring. And apologies for the lapse in-between chapters 1 and 2. I had writers' block. Am thrilled with the good reviews by the way. I appreciate it. Anyway. Chapter 3:_

I woke up the next morning, feeling tired and sluggish. I clambered slowly out of bed, annoyed that the other fifth year girls seemed much more awake. I dressed myself before the mirror. I had shaken the other girls' hands last night and introduced myself. There were only three other Ravenclaw fifth year girls. As weariness left me, I wondered aloud how I was going to find my classes.

"Stay with me, I'll show you." said the girl named Padma. She was the one who seemed to like me the best out of the group. I nodded to her, yawning.

I was bending over my trunk, shoving the heavy books into my bag, when I straightened up short. I hadn't seen Bones since last night. I rushed to the other side of my bed and saw his carrier...empty. A lump of panic rose in my throat. I frantically tried to calm myself down, telling myself that he was not a stupid cat and was fine wherever he was.

As we were walking down to the Great Hall, Cho caught up with me.

"Did you have a good sleep?" She asked, noticing my tired expression.

"Oh the sleep was great; I just didn't get enough of it."

She chortled appreciatively. I grinned. We chatted some more about who would win the regionals. She strongly supported the Tornadoes while I stuck with my beloved Arrows; of course I still supported my team from the States, The California Crushers. On the way down, Padma pointed out all the bathrooms and important classrooms. I have a very photographic memory, and so these things stuck in my brain. I would never need to ask Padma for directions again after today.

We came into the Great Hall, where breakfast was being served. I suddenly found that I was ravenous. As I gobbled down my food, Cho pointed out the teachers to me, and named their subjects.

"…And that's Professor Sprout, she teaches Herbology." Cho was saying. I groaned.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I was hoping this school didn't teach Herbology. I absolutely detest the subject."

"Why?"

"_Why?_ There's no independent thought involved. You just get dirty and sweaty trying to help or harvest a plant that would like nothing more than to strangle you! There's no room for innovation! You're just trying to keep your arms attached to your body!"

Cho looked thoroughly taken aback by this outburst. I dared not say more, for there was another reason that I hated Herbology. It was last year that I was pulled out of a Herbology class to hear news of my mothers' death. Was it only last year? It seemed a lifetime ago. Changing the subject, I asked,

"Who teaches Potions?"

Cho looked relieved to have something new to talk about. She pointed to a greasy haired, hook nosed man.

"That's Snape." She suddenly had an expression on her face that was akin to swallowing something very disgusting. "He's Head of Slytherin, so he thinks it's perfectly all right to favor his own students, no matter how stupid they are."

"I see…" I said, studying him.

Suddenly there was a great swooshing sound that turned out to be the many wings of owls as they flew into the hall with the days' mail. They clattered noisily onto the tables, trying to deliver packages and letters. I watched this, mildly interested, until a small black thing fluttered down in front of me. I stared at it. It looked like a robin, only it was solid black. It hopped onto my plate, chirping excitedly. I was wondering what it was doing here until I saw that its eyes were green.

"_Bones??"_ I asked softly. The little bird hopped and chirped louder.

"I thought you said you had a cat." said Cho's frizzy haired friend.

"That's what I thought too…" I said slowly. Something was tugging on my mind, it was on the tip of my tongue, but Cho got there first.

"Oh _wow_…" she said quietly. "It's a _Creaturamorph_."

There was a general murmur of awe, and I could only stare, open mouthed at the little bird hopping on my platter.

A Creaturamorph is an ancient animal that was first described in 343 BC by the last native Pharaoh, King Nectanebo II shortly before his empire fell to the Persians. He called it "a thing of many shapes", which is essentially true. The modern definition of a Creaturamorph is an animal that begins with a base form, a form that it is born into, and due to a mutation (brought on by magic of course) it has the "junk" DNA of all other creatures and can turn these genes on and off at will, causing it to take the physical form of another animal. It cannot change the colors it was born with however, and usually isn't born with more than two colors in its appearance. In early life, the Creaturamorph will only be able to change itself into simple forms of life (birds, rodents, insects, etc.) As it matures it can take on the forms or much more complex fauna. It is extremely rare; the last recorded Creaturamorph belonged to Alvis the Annexed of Norway in 1543. Throughout history Creaturamorphs have been known to seek a human companion that they will bond with for life. They are also known to be faithful, affectionate guides for their companions.

And I had one. The first Creaturamorph to surface since 1543. Even as we all stared at him in wonder, his form began to shift. His feathers were turning smoothly into fur, his head was becoming elongated, and his little birds' body was growing. There was an admiring "Oooh" from everyone in the vicinity as a sleek black rat now sat where the bird had been.

I wanted so badly to take him to class with me, but knew that I could not. I wondered if he would understand me if I told him he had to leave. I scooped up the squeaking black rat and whispered,

"I'm sorry Bones, but I can't take you to class with me."

The little rat squeaked again, and darted from my hands onto the table. He picked a crumb off my plate and, putting it in his mouth, streaked away.

For the rest of the day, I often caught my fellow Ravenclaws throwing me envious glances. I tried not to look too pleased with my predicament, however this was incredibly difficult.

I had no trouble adjusting to the school's schedule, and the first four days went smoothly. My teachers seemed to like me well enough, and because I excelled at Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall beamed at me whenever she saw me in the hallway. Perhaps it would be conceited for me to say that I was far more advanced then my fellows though I tried my best to act dumb. I didn't want to be moved up again like I was at my old school. (I'd had a taste for parading my superior intellect when I arrived at the Institute, and this caused me to be moved up several grades. I was still considered a first year, but I took classes with the fourth years.) However you can only really play dumb to a point in a magic school, as your spell work will speak for you.

On Friday, I went into the Great Hall for breakfast cheerfully, looking forward to the afternoon off. My schedule said that I had Defense against the Dark Arts and then my favorite class, Potions. This is also why I was looking forward to the day. But when I got to the table, I saw that Cho was sitting on her own. This struck me as odd. I had concluded that my friend Cho wasn't happy unless she had at least a few people close by. I saw the other girls she considered her "friends" sitting a few seats away, with their heads close together, bound in convorsation. I sat down across from her.

She looked up, startled by my presence. I was rather taken aback to see that her eyes were red rimmed.

"Hi," she said in a choked voice. I bit back my toungue, wanting to ask what was wrong. Here there were really two possibilities. The first being her assuring me that nothing was wrong when clearly something was. The second and much more frightening prospect was that she would pour all of her emotions onto me, and I really didn't feel that our friendship was quite deep enough yet for that to be less then unbearably awkward. So what I said was---

"Hey."

And I left it at that.

We had been forewarned by Cho and her friends that Ol' Toadys' class would be boring, but that didn't make it any better. I fumed over the stupid useless book, while giving her many dirty looks that she failed to notice. I watched the ugly pink clock behind her desk inch along. I sighed. Here was another class that required no independant thinking.

When the bell rang, I was impatient. I didn't really want to go to break, but get straight to Potions.

"You're honestly one of the strangest people here." said Padma when I voiced my frustrations. "Harry Potter has you beat in weirdness, though." she looked across the courtyard to where Harry and his friends were sitting. Of course I had heard a great deal of muttering and fun poking at Harry Potter, but I was too keen to get to Potions at the moment to care at the time.

"Just wait..." said Padma evenly. "You'll see what I mean."

Of course I didn't think that something as unimportant as a grouchy teacher could affect my love for Potions. My Grandmother, who was a Muggle, had had an excellent education, despite what her rural lifestyle would suggest. She had a PhD in both Chemistry and Physics from Berkely. She always gave off an air of aloft and objective intelligence, whereas my dead mother had more of a deep, watery kind of intellect, like her father. During the summer months my Grandmother would come to our home and teach me her kind of science. So together we would apply what she knew about Chemistry to what I had learned about Potions. For both subjects shared a lot of the same principles. Sometimes, she would become over-enthusiastic and keep me up till darkness had fallen. At these times I would grumble and groan, and she would always laugh and say, _"It may be dreary and wearisome now, but always ALWAYS remember that knowlege is power." _And I would be spurred on to create more chemical compounds for different draughts.It was also my Grandmother, whose teachings in physics led me to be the beater I was. _"Objects in motion, stay in motion." _she would say. _"Don't you stop for anything Dahlia, because you can be sure that bludger won't stop for you."_

Heh. It turned out I was very wrong about the teacher thing, though.

The bell signaling second hour rang, and everybody grumbled and groaned as they set out for class. I enthusiastically followed Padma and my other Ravenclaw classmates.

Of course I would have picked out a different location for a Potions class besides the dungeons, but all the same I was practically twitching with excitement at the prospects. I saw a group of Hufflepuffs by the door, apparently this was to be a double period. The sweet and pungent odor was filling my lungs already. The scent of the unstable chemicals in the ingridients combining and clashing with each other to create different effects. I breathed it in, savoring the rewards of reason, logic, and a nose for the elements. The door to the dungeon opened slowly, and since my classmates seemed a little apprehensive, I was the first to plunge in bravely.

Now Severus Snape is not a person made for close up veiwing. Indeed, he could make you feel nauseated with that "greasy-sick person" look he has going on. So surely you, the reader, can understand the particular reaction I had when I marched through the door and walked straight into him.

"AAAAUGHHHH!!!"

My scream turned into a gurgle in my throat as his eyes flashed white lightening. A look like that should belong to the Devil. He grabbed my arms in a pincer-like grip and shoved me roughly away.

I edged away, shivering. It felt like I had just emerged from a vat of cold phlegm. Hurring to a desk in the back, I took out my Potions kit. _Of course, he opens the door and THEN walks out, _I thought angrily. Padma came in with the rest of the class and sat next to me, an annoying smug look on her face. Snape slammed the door after the last person scurried in. He spent the first fifteen minutes of class lecturing us about the O.W.Ls, then he flicked his wand and instructions appeared.

Of course, the Draught of Peace..An ecceedingly simple solution. I opened my Potions kit and now Padma was giving me a different kind of look. One of utter confusion. For aside from the extra ingriedients I kept in there, I had a number of other odd things. A metric scale, a few graduated cylinders, a large beaker, a mecury thermometer, test tubes, a culture plate, a deflagration spoon, a pipet, a 60cc syringe, a pair of saftey goggles (enhanced to protect against magical spills, which would erode regular plastic of course) and a book, _The World of Chemistry_. This had been given to my grandmother when she graduated from Berkely.

I spread my potions text book and _The World of Chemistry_ out on the table along with all my ingriedients, my notebook, and my equipment on the table and set to work. It was a good thing it was only Padma and I at the table for if it weren't, there would be no room for anyone else's cauldron. I wrote down the instructions that Snape had put on the blackboard in my notebook, then checked them with the ones in the book. They were in sync except that Snape's instructions called for one counterclockwise stir after the heliotrope had been added instead of two. I worked out that the extra stir was quite unnecesary. Snape was definitely not a fool when it came to Potions, that was certain. Then I began to theorize with my own notes on how best to improve the recipe. I found, in the index of my chemistry book that there are certain kinds of chemicals called carminatives that induce a soothing effect. I discovered that a few of the oils I kept extra carried this compound. I decided that it would be best to add seven drops of chamomile oil after adding the hellebore. This would speed up the process, erasing the need to simmer for another thirteen minutes, and it would give the potion a pleasent scent.

I had my hand poised above the potion with my pipet ("eye dropper") full of the yellowish colored oil, when a cruel icy voice above me said,

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

I looked up and saw Snape standing above me, looking severe. The class fell still to watch.

"Well I don't _think_ I'm doing anything, I am about to add this chamomile oil to my potion."

"You are, are you?" he said still more softly.

I could see the rage boiling up inside him and I felt a rush I couldn't explain. I was seized by a reckless desire to prove my superior knowledge. I pushed seven drops out of the pipet.

I could feel the class holding its' breath.

The oil hit the potion with a hiss and suddenly light silver steam poured from my cauldron in a perfect spiral, the liquid shimmering and glowing with a pearly light. I smiled, satisfyed with the dumbfounded look on Snape's face. He knew it, The class knew it, and I knew it. My potion was perfect.

"Detention, Saturday morning, my office, Six o'clock am...and God help you if you're late."

He turned and stormed back to the front.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I told you. I _told_ you he was evil."

"Shut up, Padma."


	4. Draco

I lay in bed that night, fuming. Indignant that the dratted Professor failed to see or appriciate my genius. I tossed, I turned, I punched my pillow several times, and tried to find that elusive sleep. Eventually it took me away.

I woke up, feeling a little more energetic than I expected to be. The sky was a little bit darker too. It was 6 am. I put my clothes on, Muggle clothes, because I knew it would annoy Snape. I smiled at my own daring and cleverness. I crept downstairs, those strange morning lights flashing at me. I saw Bones curled up in a chair when I entered the common room. He had taken on the form of a Jackal today.

"Nice one." I said. My voice seemed to echo.

I stole down through the castle, not meeting anyone, which I cannot say surprised me. Only a creep like Snape would be up at this god-awful hour. The early morning bluish shadows seemed to undulate and swirl. It gave the eerie feeling that this castle was alive. A concious sentinent being. I shivered and pulled my sweater closer. As I descended into the dungeons, I felt the temperature drop. I wished dearly that there would be a little heat in Snape's office.

I stepped into his dungeon classroom, and the only light was a firey orange glow coming from the crack in the doorway to his office. I edged open the door slowly. He was standing with his back to me in front of his fireplace, in which there was a roaring blaze. His hands were folded behind his back and he seemed to be brooding.

Suddenly he whipped around, discarding his cloak, and standing in the middle of Snape's office was the young Malfoy! But there was something distinctly different about him. He wasn't so boyish and pointy looking. He looked older, sexier. His shoulders were broad and he was taller too! I felt my heart pounding in my chest as he approached me slowly. He was inches away from my face when he said in a husky man's voice,

"You've been quite naughty..."

"Oh god yes..." I replied in a voice that was much more sensual then my usual tone.

"Perhaps..." he said, pressing up against me "I ought to punish you."

And then he was kissing me. Not just on my lips but my neck, and my exposed shoulders as well. His hands were roving all over my body, and I could feel him growing hard against me. He pressed me hard into the desk that had erupted into being behind me...His passion was growing...I wanted him to do it soon...hard and fast...

"Wake up." he said softly, kissing my neck again.

"I'm awake," I said breathlessly. "Ohh I'm _so_ awake..."

"Wake up!" he said shrilly.

"Jeezus I am awake, what's wrong with you?!" I said angrily.

"Get the hell up!" he shouted.

I sat straight up in bed, my little alarm clock sighed and said _"Finally", _then laid back against my nightstand. I looked out the window and saw the sky, it's horizon pink around the edges. My heart still thumped in my chest, and something else was pulsing and throbbing under the sheets. I was still aching for some kind of fulfillment I couldn't explain. I took in my surroundings slowly..._It was a dream...only a dream...Malfoy's not here, and he doesn't want you..._My heart still thundered, but it was slowing down gradually. I ought to be soothed by the fact that It was only a dream, but why, _why,_ was I disappointed?

The thought frightend me.

I pulled on the most modest outfit I had, and I was really too shocked by my nightime excursion to be groggy in any way. I walked down the spiral stairs briskly, buttoning my sweater as I went. I entered the apparently empty common room and was making my way to the door when a strangely familiar voice said,

"You're up rather early."

I whirled around and was quite taken aback to see a pale shimmery woman sitting in the windowsil. I only realized after a moment that she was a ghost. I hadn't seen the ghost of our tower yet, but I felt that I had looked upon her before. It felt like...she was a long lost relative that I hadn't seen since babyhood. Despite my hurry, I stood there, looking at her.

"Well, I have detention..." I said slowly.

She nodded understandingly. I noticed the shape of her face and eyes, and felt that strange leap of familiarity. She turned back to the window.

"There's no time of day quite like the dawn..." she said thoughtfully, still looking out of the window.

"Yeah.." I said, looking out of the high windows, too.

"It makes you think." she said softly, and then she got up and glided through the far wall.

I shook my head as though trying to shake something off and looked at my watch. 6:05.

Run, run, run though the halls. Fly, fly, fly down the stairways. Crash, crash, crash into Snape's office, and STILL I had to work an extra hour. He made me sit in the frigid classroom and pull the stingers off of billywigs, and skin shrivelfigs. I glared at his closed office door, muttering obscenities under my breath, while I watched the clock tick away indecently slowly.

Finally when Snape released me around Nine-ish, I dashed up through the dungeon corridors, anxious to get to breakfast. I passed a few bewildered Slytherins on my way up, but I was so hungry I didn't care what they thought. I had almost reached the main part of the school, when I crashed headlong into somebody who had suddenly stepped into my path. We both fell over and I could hear his angry mutterings. I stood up, ready to apologize and the world seemed to fall away as I saw who I had run over.

I'm sure you can guess who it was.

The young Malfoy looked both angry and confused as he brushed himself off. I spluttered and stumbled through my apology, and I knew why I was doing it. All I could think about as I stared at his face, was the desk scene in my dream, and it put hot flush in my cheeks. When I could bear it no longer, I cast my eyes down to the floor.

"There you are, Draco!" said a female voice.

I looked up and saw a pale, pug faced girl with (for lack of a better description) shit brown hair, coming towards the young Malfoy. She linked her arm through his. Immeadiately a few choice jinxes crossed my mind, but I settled for an inner scowl.

"I was looking everywhere for you, why did you leave without me?" she simpered.

He looked at me for a fleeting moment, and I felt my middle area swoop high. Then he walked away with that despicable girl, explaining to her that he had decided to let her sleep in.

I stood there for a moment, opening and closing my mouth like some sort of fish. Then I marched slowly up to the Hall, my enthusiasm for food vanished.

I came in, the cloudy sky reflecting my mood. Seeing that Cho was also at breakfast I sat down across from her. We didn't even say good morning to each other as I poured myself a cup of coffee. She picked at her food, looking as I felt: Distraught. We ate in silence. Ten minutes passed as she read _The Daily Prophet_ and I stole guilty glances at the Slytherin table for reasons only known to me. Then she got up and said to me tonelessly,

"Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow, if you want to try for beater."

I nodded to her and tried my very best to smile. She smiled in a very very sad kind of way and went off to do her own thing.

I stared into space for a few moments thinking about my sudden infatuation. I didn't really know why I felt the way I did about Draco Malfoy, but I knew that I wanted the Pug faced girl dead. I smiled serenely. Before I could stop it, my mind drifted into fantasies of dancing with him in a grand ballroom, I in a yellow dress and he in a blue suit. We would be Beauty and the Beast...I was brought out of these childish thoughts by a timid voice.

"Dahlia?"

My eyes slid into focus as I saw a short, thin figure in front of me.

"Dorian!" I said, surprised.

He looked highly embarassed about being over here, and kept glancing back at the Slytherin table edgily. He seemed in an awful hurry to get to the point.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"Let's go to the Library." I said, gathering up my things, eager to get away from Draco Malfoy. Dorian seemed just as anxious to vacate the Great Hall as I was.

When we got to the Library, we were pleased to find it quite deserted, except for the pinched and hawk-like librarian, who glared at us suspiciously as we passed. I found a table at the very back, and Dorian seemed intent on making absolutely sure there was nobody around before he spoke.

"I...I'm troubled." he said slowly, trying to sound adult.

"What's up?" I said, concerned.

He looked confused, and took a little while to reply, clearly plotting carefully what he was about to say.

"Tell me about love." he said with upmost seriousness.

I couldn't help but laugh, it was so absurd. I stopped quickly, seeing his mortified look.

"Heheh, what do you want to know about that for?"

"I think I'm in love, but I have to be sure."

He said this very earnestly, and I realized how important this was to him. But really, what could I tell him? I was only fifteen, I didn't know any more about love than he did. I decided to play for time...

"Who do you think you're in love with?" I asked, pretty sure I knew what the answer was. He leaned in closely, and looked around once more before he whispered,

"Ruby."

Of course.

"The other boys in Slytherin say that Gryffindors are losers and Mudbloods!" he rushed on, "But I don't think that! Ruby's kind and gentle and pretty!" His volume went up an octave and I interjected sternly,

"Pffft, when those guys tell you that, you smile and nod, but don't you believe it for one second, do you understand me?"

He gulped and nodded.

"What am I gonna do?" he cried. "I can't let them know that I love her or they'll hex me and call me a blood traitor!"

"First of all, you're too young to be in love." I said to steady him, as I sensed hysteria coming on. "Second of all, I know how you must feel." I continued, thinking darkly of my own newly found ardor. "But the fact is, if you truly feel for somebody, then blood status or house doesn't matter. You have to follow your heart." I finished with a cliche.

He looked somewhat comforted and I added hastily,

"But keep your head. Don't go around shouting that you're in love with a Gryffindor. Remember, you don't even know what love is; what you have is a crush. Maybe it'll go away, maybe it won't. Just talk to Ruby if it doesn't."

I thought it was sage advice, and he seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Thanks, Dahlia." he said, getting up.

"Anytime." I replied with an indulgent smile. "Don't let your emotions run away with you!"

"Ok," he said, and turned to leave.

I remained at the table thinking of my own advice. _Don't let your emotions run away with you...Don't dreams have special meanings? Maybe when I was getting frisky with Draco Malfoy in my dream it could be symbolising something else? Oh if only I'd taken Divination, then I'd know all about this. Hmm. Maybe I could go and speak to the Divination teacher, she's not doing anything today..._

I got up to leave the Library and find Padma, for I didn't know where the Divination teacher was.

"Oh I don't take Divination.." she said, when I found her in the common room, doing homework. "But my sister Parvati does, look for her in the courtyard, she looks just like me. We're twins. She hangs out with this girl, Lavender Brown."

It took me the rest of the moring to find Parvati, who was out on the grounds with the mysterious Lavender.

"Oh sure I'll show you!" said Parvati.

"Greaaaat." I muttered.

It took another ten minutes to reach the top of north tower, and I was in foul spirits when Parvati rapped on the trap door and the silver ladder descended.

"Thanks," I said dully.

"Anytime!" Parvati chirped.

I climbed up into the stifling tower room, and my first impression was that of a cliche new age store. Incense thick on the air, with odd gypsy-ish draperies and hangings. And then the icing on the cake was the woman herself. Looking like a fortune teller straight out of one of those old movies.

"Uhh...I just came up to--"

"--You have a problem that you wish for me to ease." she said in a floaty, dreamy, mystical voice.

"Yeaah." I said blandly, remembering exactly why I never wanted to take Divination. "I was wondering if you could tell me the meaning of a dream I had recently..."

She looked positively delighted at the request.

"Of course my dear, I am always here for a student in doubt about their destiny. Sit." she geastured to a chair in front of her.

I sat down and immeadiately launched into my dream, going into intricate detail. She sat there for a little bit, her mouth slightly open. And then---

"W-well the Jackal...i-is traditionally recognized as the Guide of souls, associated with cemeteries. My dear, it is not a good omen." she finished, patting my hand.

_All right, _I thought._ She doesn't know what she's talking about._

"Ah. Ok, that's all well and good but I was more concerned about the se--"

"--Oh! I feel a disturbance in the vibrations!" she trilled dramatically. "You must go!"

And it was at this point that I was shooed out the trap door.

I trunched back to the common room, feeling incredibly tired. I waved half heartedly to Padma and made my way up the staircase. Bones was on my bed, a kitten again, snoozing. I curled up in my bed, cuddling him close to me and soon I was asleep.

When I woke up I saw that it was early morning again. Dawn was aproaching but the sky wasn't quite pink yet. I had slept a very long time. I stretched and walked down to the common room.

I sat down in one of our blue leather antique armchairs and thought more about the Malfoy situation. Eventually I came to the conclusion that my dream was simply a manifestation of my budding sexuality. I found him attractive, for whatever reason, and that caused me to lust after him. While the thought was not pleasent at all, I came to accept that as the truth. I wasn't in love with him. I wasn't even infatuated with him. Indeed who could love..._that_? And with that final thought, I pushed Draco Malfoy out of my mind. I had to. The Quidditch tryouts were today...and I didn't need the distraction.


	5. My first year

The rest of that first year passed quite uneventfully (for me, anyway). Study. Fly. Study. Fly. That was my routine, for I found that Quidditch and schoolwork were excellent blocks for my strange attraction to the Malfoy boy. It also became routine for me to come down to the common room early in the morning and clear my head before the day had really begun. It was due to this that I was able to work quickly and efficiently, which baffled just about everyone else. I was rather confident that I aced my O.W.Ls, though I said this to no one. As you know, at the end of that year, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had a close shave with death, which the whole wizarding world was buzzing about. I heard that Sirius Black had perished, was given the Order of Merlin, and had been innocent the whole time. I also heard that the Pompous man at my dining room table all those months ago was very close to losing his job for his serious lack of judgement as far as Voldemort was concerned. This pleased me greatly. I stopped talking to Cho Chang after she point-blank refused to hate Marietta Edgecombe like the rest of us. It was a small comfort that the girls' face now resembled a pepperoni pizza. Dorian never mentioned his "love" for Ruby to me again but the whole thing seemed to be going well (I spotted the two of them holding hands in the courtyard one sunny day just before term ended). I couldn't help but smile to myself whenever I saw either of them. Ike and Lonna were the same as ever. One highly intelligent, and on the other end of the spectrum, one highly good-natured.

So ended my first year at Hogwarts. Strangely, the whole experience seemed to half fill the empty place inside me; the place where my mother had once been. I didn't recognize it at the time, but my mother was slowly slipping from my conciousness. It came as quite a shock whenever I was suddenly reminded of her, as if I had never had a mother at all. My father never wrote to me while I was at Hogwarts. He did however send me a generous allowance once a month. It showed he cared, although sometimes I wondered if he felt guilty for not being in my life until now. I had grown somewhat attached to my father, if not for emotional reasons, then perhaps for the fact that if I didn't have him, I'd have nobody at all.

I marched down the sunny slope on the last day. Bones circled overhead, having adopted an impressive eagle shape that day. I dragged my trunk along and stuffed it into a carridge, Lonna trailing after me. She had become more or less like a little sister to me. We were both "the only child" and so I suppose it was only natural that we found comfort in each other. We would be sharing a compartment together this trip and hopefully Ike, Dorian, and Ruby would be able to find us.

Heaving my trunk onto the luggage rack, I glanced out of the compartment window to see who was going by. Nobody I recognized. I sat down, fanning myself, and saw Lonna straining to get her trunk into the luggage rack manually, as I had done. I cleared my throat loudly and murmured _"Wingardium Leviosa", _pointing my wand at her trunk. I guided it up and into the luggage rack safely.

"You didn't have to do that." she said in her charachteristic tonless way.

"Maybe not, but I did it anyway." I replied.

The train began to move just as Bones swooped in through the window and rapidly turned into his true form; the black cat. Almost at the very same moment, I saw Draco Malfoy pass by our compartment. I couldn't help but stare at him, and alarmingly, his eyes snapped to mine. I jumped as though electrified and looked away. I chose to look out the window until I could be sure that he had passed before moving my head again. I saw the turrets and towers of Hogwarts drifting away and felt a slight twinge of sadness. It had been my home away from home. I am talking of course about the cabin in the mountains of California, a place I had almost forgotten.(I could never really call the house of my father home.) Hogwarts was the next best thing, it was a place where I didn't feel quite so alone. _Still, _I though wryly, _this summer couldn't be worse than the last, right? And even if it is, at least I'm prepared for it._

The remainder of my four joined me over the course of one hour, and soon it felt just as it had on our first journey together. This time, however we were basically reviewing our year. They asked me how Quidditch was, and what it felt like to play for a house team, and if the spellwork at O.W.L level was difficult. They all raved happily about their year, whilst I brooded about mine.

It alarmed me when I realized that Draco Malfoy was playing on my mind more than ever now that I had left Hogwarts. And it had only been a few hours since I'd last seen the Ravenclaw common room! He seemed to be all I could think about as my four discussed their individual experiences. I kept my mouth shut more than half of the time; it was the only way to keep my thoughts about him from spilling out. As the day wore on, I found myself fantasizing about the man I'd seen in that dream all those months ago. I wasn't really infatuated with Draco, uh, I mean Malfoy. I was in lust with the guy from my dream...the guy that Malfoy _could_ become. That comforted me somewhat, though I was still slightly unsettled.

I had been in two minds for most of the year. There was the Outer Mind, the one that despised Draco Malfoy for his bullying tendancies and haughty manner. And then there was the Secret Mind, which yearned to have him holding my hand, and kissing me passionately in a deserted corridor. This was the mind that frightened me. Not because I didn't want to have Draco Malfoy factor into my life somewhere, but because most often, this part of your mind is rash and hasty in its decision making. It's the part of ones' mind that leaps before it looks. The part that causes heartache. I struggled to keep this Secret Mind quiet throughout the year and had been quite sucessful. It was then, on that train ride, it occured to me that it was the school that gave me my power over my feelings, and now that I was leaving...I was losing control.

When we pulled into the station, Ike, Ruby, and Dorian said goodbye to me, and I even hugged Ruby before they left to go meet their parents. Lonna had remained behind, clearly wanting to tell me something. I looked around at her when I had gotten my trunk down; she was looking at me with a very curious expression on her face.

Suddenly she had her arms wrapped around my waist and her head against my chest like a child embracing its' mother. I patted her head awkwardly.

"I wish you were my _real_ sister." she said woefully. I felt an upsurge of affection for her, and hugged her back.

"Well, " I said "I'll tell you what." and I drew away from her and looked her in the eye.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"I, Dahlia Tiffany Blakely, do hereby promise to always think of Lonna Marie Charleston as my real sister, as long as she never says that to anybody but herself."

And she hugged me again.

I was walking along the corridor, dragging my trunk behind me when I saw out of the corner of my eye what appeared to be a giant slug in a luggage rack. I did a double take and saw that it was wearing a Hogwarts uniform. Doing a triple take, I realized it was a person.

I rushed inside the compartment and saw that there were three people wedged in the luggage rack, clearly having been jinxed and hexed to the point of looking mollusk like. I pulled them down, one by one, led on by a strange feeling that this was something I should do. I quickly tried every counter jinx I knew, until I hit the right ones, on each of them until they were growing back to normal. I looked out of the window to see how many people had gotten off the train, and when I looked back I felt my legs turn to Jell-O. There of course was Malfoy, looking surprised and grateful, along with his Tanks, who also looked as though they could not believe it.

I couldn't say anything, yet I couldn't move. I could feel myself growing panicky. _Oh say something! For the love of god say something! Break the silen---_

"Thank you..." he said quietly. Then he looked as though he was struggling to get something else out of his mouth. "Dahlia." he sais slowly, clearly having just remembered my first name.

I nearly swayed on the spot. To hear my name on his lips was entirely too thrilling. It was with great difficulty that I fought down the impulse to kiss him and mumbled,

"You're welcome."

And with one last fleeting, feverish look, I hurried out of the compartment.

My father looked highly irritated as I emerged from the barrier.

"Where were you?" he asked harshly.

"There was an issue on the train." I said calmly. "My trunk burst open."

"Hmph."

Even I was a little surprised at how quickly I thought up that lie as we walked out into the street.

Thus began my second summer without my mother. My sixteenth birthday had come in february, and I swelled in front and back even further than I already had, in the subsequent months. The summer turned out to be very much like the first with one small improvement. Dinky told me that there was a little muggle villiage nearby and since Bones was now capable of changing into any animal he wished, I had ample transportation. So almost every night, I snuck out of the house and went out to the villiage. It was a breath of fresh air from a stifling, opressive house.

The price that was paid for my wonderful nightly excursions was a heavy one. Our world was crumbling beneath us. The Darkness was growing stronger by the hour, with reports of deaths, injuries and dissapearances flowing in almost daily. It was even mistier in the forest than it was before due to the surge of dementors, and my father looked more ruffled and harried than ever. I was definitely worried about the world I had entered, but not enough to stop me from exploring the villiage.

I had come across a clothing store that I particularly adored. It was called _Joley's Place _and it specialized in vintage things. Eventually I ended up buying several things that are rather relevant to my tale.

The first, was a dress. It was an almost exact (the V-neckline was slightly wider and showed a little more cleavage) replica of Marilyn Monroe's white dress in her most famous photograph. I loved it so much that I splurged and paid the hundred pounds for it.

The second, was a long, carved, ivory tube for smoking that the fashionable women of old would use when they wanted to be sexy. This too, had a powerful pull on me, that I couldn't explain. I bought this as well.

Hair ornaments, jewelry, shoes...all these things I bought, because I wanted to have an air of sleek sex appeal. I wanted to have the ability to look at a man and bring him to his knees. I didn't know this of course at the time, but at sixteen, I was ripe and ready for romance. Something clicked in my physical being during those two months, and I knew that when I saw a certain blonde young man again, I would no longer have knees of taffy, but instead a coy smile.

My father announced the dinner party on the morning of August the twenty-third. I looked up and asked in a delicate way,

"So this is an annual thing then?"

He sat up straighter and surveyed me. He had noticed my refined tone, and he looked at me appraisingly.

"Yes, the Malfoys have been my friends for many years...what happend to Lucius was rather upsetting, but apparently Narcissa does not see the need to cancel our plans."

My father had never divulged this much with me before, and even though it should have made me feel good, I felt the heat drain away from me slightly.

"And is she coming...alone?" I asked even more delicately, trying to disguise the curiosity in my voice.

"She has told me that she will be bringing her son, because, she feels that he is spending too much time inside these days and it will be good for him to get out."

I felt a small smile playing on my lips, and I got up from the table with a new reason to anticipate the nightfall tonight. The butterflies fluttered and bounced around inside me, but on the surface I was as cool as my eyes of blue ice. _He won't know what's hit him,_ I thought slyly as I ascended the staircase in the house of my father.


	6. A real party

_Sixth chapter notes: The song lyrics are credited to Orgy (Blue Monday) I know there's more than 1 version of Blue monday, but Orgy's is the one thats playing in the club. (It's a great song, one of my favorites. I suggest you give it a listen.) I make a referance to Marilyn Monroe in this chapter and theres a photograph that inspired it. When you get to that part feel free to look at that photo : Well here's chapter 6._

For the rest of the day, I planned. I picked out what I was going to wear, and how I was going to wear it. I swept my incredibly long hair into different styles, deciding that a wide black headband was all that was needed. for my clothes I chose a loose, short, black tube dress and a long string of pearls (from Joley's), and my simple ballet flats. I was of course, going for the flapper look. I spent the rest of my time primping and preening, painting and buffing. I had seen my mother doing this many times in the past, and had tried to drink in all that she did. For whilst my dead mother had been a pretty woman, it was only after she had done her beauty regime that she became a ravishingly beautiful creature. By the time six o'clock came, I couldn't believe the results. I had, and forgive my lack of modesty here, turned myself into Aphrodite.

I heard the doorbell ring and went to my window to look out at the front steps. There was the tall figure of Narcissa Malfoy, looking greatly aged since I'd last seen her, and standing next to her was a slightly taller young man, whose white blonde head glowed in the porch light. I felt the butterflies in my stomach struggling to get out, but I kept myself calm and Jell-O leg free. I continiued to watch them until I saw Dinky open the door for them. They stepped inside, and I saw Narcissa thrust her heavy cloak at Dinky, who almost collapsed under its weight. I immeadiately felt a rush of anger towards her, but I quickly stifled it. Narcissa seemed to be sparkled over with jewels, which was odd, as she hadn't worn any jewelry at last year's dinner. Draco, on the other hand was plainly dressed in a sleek black suit that rather flattered his pale features. I heard my father greeting them enthusiastically. I waited for another five minutes or so, hoping to make one of those fashionably late entrances. When I could sit there no longer, I left my room.

I crept through the marble hallways slowly, trying to gather my poise. All too soon, I was standing in front of the huge double dining room doors. I had arranged that Dinky would open the doors for me earlier with her this afternoon. And there she was, all ready, just as we'd planned it. I nodded to her and she pushed them open with her elf magic, making them swing forward.

I went into the room, not walking but gliding on short footsteps. Draco was sitting across from his mother who was on my father's right at the head of the table. Upon seeing me, Draco leapt from his chair and pulled out the one next to him, almost involuntarily. He was definitely tinged with pink when I sat down in any case. He looked away from me and chose to stare at his mother instead. I too, looked at Narcissa Malfoy. She was indeed encrusted with jewels, diamonds, in fact. She had done her makeup most lavishly, and I was suddenly reminded of Marilyn Monroe. And she was staring at my father most admiringly as he talked about his work. I narrowed my eyes at her, and then looked at my father. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention. I looked at Draco to see if he had noticed. He was staring darkly at his mother, and I could see it in his eyes; he felt betrayed.

I completely forgot about trying to bewitch Draco, while I watched his mother bewitch my father. The both of us just sat there in silence, watching this disturbing display. Did she really have to touch my father's arm that much? Did she need to bat her long eyelashes so frequently? Draco's expression grew cloudier by the second as that dinner progressed, and I simply could not disguise my intrest in this development. When the meal had finished, Narcissa gave my father a look. It was the kind of look that smouldered and seared a man's insides, so that he became unrational...I knew it well.

"We're adjouring to the sitting room," my father said gruffly to Draco and I, though never taking his eyes off that woman. "Er, Dahlia, why don't you show Draco the Library."

Narcissa gave my father that temptress look again and Draco seemed to have had enough. He stood up and opened his mouth angrily, but his mother seemed to anticipate this reaction.

"Go, Draco." she said sharply to him, discarding her seductive manner for a severe one, like switching hats. It couldn't be plainer that both adults wanted desperately to be on their own together. With a furious look, Draco stormed toward the door, and I followed. I thought I heard a soft giggle as I shut the door a little harder than I meant to.

He stood in the middle of the foyer, looking at the door as though seriously considering leaving. I didn't think he even registered that I was there. I took the opportunity to scan him up and down. I hadn't really gotten a good look at him, what with Narcissa putting the moves on my father. It's funny how two months apart can change your perspective. He was definitely taller than he was when I first met him on the train, in fact the change was prominent. His chest had broadend out and his chin had become defined. I realized with a jolt that he had become the Draco from my dream. I was marveling over the fact, when I noticed his expression. It was one of deepest torment and anguish. Understandable, of course. I'm sure his mother's blatent treachery to her husband's honor while imprisoned caused him great upset. I could see it hurting him. He had to fold his arms across his chest and close his eyes, it hurt him so badly.

Then he looked at me and I had a split second urge to jump out of my shoes. Before I could congradulate myself for not doing so, however, he had looked away.

"Well, do you want to see the Library?" I asked in a gentle voice.

He gave me a nod/shrug, and I proceeded to lead him up the stairs.

Once we were in the Library and had the lamps lit, he seemed to be desperate to distract himself from whatever he imagined was going on downstairs. He prowled the shelves and finally selected a small book at the far corner of the shelf. He flipped it open and let the pages turn. I could only watch his hands, long fingered and slender.

"Nothing's written in it." he said quietly. Sliding it back into its' place, he sat down at the fine oak table and sighed.

I had to admit I didn't imagine our night together like this. I'd wanted him to admire my looks and somehow decide that what he needed was a new girlfriend and to change his haughty ways. And then I had a sudden stroke of inspiration. When I was a small girl my Muggle grandmother had taken me to a movie in which there was a situation remarkably like this. So when I saw him sitting there, forlorn and depressed, it occured to me that I could save him from whatever was troubling him...if only for a few hours.

Unblushingly I walked over to him and set my hands on his shoulders. He jumped and looked around at me, surpirsed that I would be so foreward.

"So..." I said to him "You wanna go to a real party?"

I honestly don't think he would have consented to come with me, if his mother hadn't behaved so poorly and instilled a recklessness in him. We ran from the library to my room where I pulled a pair of jeans on under my short dress. I put on my tight leather jacket and grabbed his hand. Leading him down to the back door, we slipped out, unheard.

The night air was crisp and fresh and the wind lifted my hair, filling me with a sense of adventure that I rarely ever felt. Draco looked less pleased and shivered. He glanced back at the house evidently wondering if he'd made the right choice in coming out with me. I whistled for Bones. There was a crashing sound in the forest that grew steadily louder until a black rhinoceros blasted out of the underbrush. Draco cried out and ran behind me.

"Bones, transport." I said loudly.

The rhino cocked its head, then began to shrink rapidly. A gorgeous black horse now stood where the rhino had been. He came forward slowly and bent his head down to be petted. I patted him gently, murnuring sweet things to him. Then he knelt down and allowed me to climb on. Draco looked uncertainly at Bones, then at me. His face shined in the moonlight with hesitance. I smiled at him and held out my hand. I'm not exactly sure what he saw in my smile but his expression relaxed and he took my hand and climbed on behind me. Bones straightened up.

"To the villiage!" I cried. Bones neighed and took off.

As we flew down the road I could feel Draco clutching me tightly, which added to the thrill of riding. Was he frightend, or was he _voluntarily_ burying his face into my neck? I didn't know, which I suppose could only add to my excitement.

We burst out of the trees on the edge of a wide moor. A small collection of lights twinkled at us a few hundred meters away. I looked back at him, and his face was impassive as he looked at the town. Then suddenly he looked at me and said,

"Well are we going, or are you just going to sit there and look at my pretty face all night?" and then he laughed. I laughed too, and slid off of Bones. He stopped laughing abruptly.

"We're not riding?" he asked. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"People don't ride into town anymore."

"Oh."

He climbed off of Bones, who immeadiately turned and transformed into a crow.

"We'll be back ok, Bonsie?"

He cawed loudly.

I started walking toward the town when Draco suddenly yelled,

"Wait!"

I turned and looked at him.

"Look at the moon!"

I stared upward. It was full. I suddenly realized what caused him such fear, and I looked ominously out at the dark moor. He was looking at me and I understood that he was expecting me to make a decision.

"We'll have to run it." I said finally. He gulped but looked bizzarely excited at the same time. "Ready?" I asked.

He nodded.

And without another word, I took off, streaking towards the lights of the town. My chest heaved and my legs seared after the first minute and I could hear him running along behind me. There was a strange cry in the darkness and I screamed. He yelled and picked up speed. The cry came again, only closer. I could almost feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I ran faster. We were both yelling now, and Draco seemed to be panting and running flat footed. He grabbed onto me and shrieked into my ear that we were almost there. We were indeed apporaching the lights, and I felt a leap of hope. If we could just reach the lights, we'd be safe. We pounded the ground, pulling each other towards the town. Then, with a final bound we were on the main street. We fearfully looked behind us and saw---

A badger.

It growled at us again, then turned and walked back into the darkness.

And we laughed. We laughed and caught our breath and hugged each other. For a long time we couldn't stop. Then mopping his eyes, Draco straightened up and looked around. There were a few Muggles in the street, young people mostly, out having fun on a saturday night. I looked at him fearfully, but I needn't have worried. Instead of a sneer or a look of digust, Draco had a vaguely curious look on his face. It was as though he had never looked properly at Muggles before.

"They're just..._people_." he said incredulously.

"Yeah." I said. And then I smiled.

We walked around the town...knowing we were outsiders made us feel closer I think. He walked very close to me in any case. His hand brushed against mine and we looked at each other. Why his eyes turned from gray to silver in the last few hours, I cannot say. I didn't recognize the person standing next to me. The person who terrorized first years, and was the captain of the Inquisitorial Squad, was not who walked with me that night.

Soon we came to our destination, though he did not know it. It was a night club. The pounding music within sounded like a pulse and Draco looked wary but thrilled at the same time.

We went inside and Draco's mouth fell open.

There was an explosion of loud, beating, thumping music and singing by a woman with a shrill voice but the other club-goers didn't seem to mind. They jumped around and danced, not feeling anything but the beat. The colored lights flashed green for a while then switched to pink. The strobe lights came on and off at random, so the effect was dazzling. A woman passed by with drinks and he snatched one off the tray and drained it. I decided that it would be best to let him work this one out on his own, and jumped onto the dance floor, just in time for a new song.

I swung my hair around and threw my arms into the air, twisting, and undulating underneath a blue light. I made my body wriggle and swirl. The beat began to enter my system and I felt my hips working with it. I looked around for draco wondering only vaguely where he'd gotten to. I saw him sitting at the bar having another drink and looking around feverishly as though terrified that someone might see him. I laughed and pushed my hips around some more. There were a few little platforms for dancing and I enthusaistically clambered on top of one and danced my heart and soul out. The boys cheered and the girls made snide comments to their friends, but I was oblivious. The music filled up my soul and took me away. When the song ended, a very pretty girl came up to the platform and said,

"How about letting someone else have a chance up there?"

"Sure!" I said breathlessly and hopped down.

The DJ put another song on. As it started, a pair of hands grabbed me from behind, and I whirled around. Draco had his hands on my waist and was moving with the music, pulling me close to him. I could smell the liquor on his breath, and he smiled in a hazy kind of way. I knew that his getting intoxicated would have its reprocussions, but at that moment...I just didn't care.

_How does it feel  
To treat me like you do  
When you've laid your hands upon me  
And told me who you are_

We were bound by our hands and every second I spent looking into his eyes, I fell deeper and deeper into him.

_I thought I was mistaken  
I thought I heard your words  
Tell me how do I feel  
Tell me now how do I feel_

He made everything right. I pressed into him harder. We swung with the music, letting it flow through us like fresh water. It cleaned out all the clouds that shadowed us, and we were seeing each other in the most natural way. I was getting lost in the silver fountains that were his eyes.

_And I still find it so hard  
To say what I need to say  
But I'm quite sure that you'll tell me  
Just how I should feel today_

_I see a ship in the harbor  
I can and shall obey  
But if it wasn't for your misfortunes  
I'd be a heavenly person today_

We were close, oh so close. He was going to kiss me. This was it. Was it real? Was it really happening? Oh god, it was! All that I'd secretly wanted for all the past months was finally going to happen to me. His lips were brushing mine...soon they would be pressed against each other, just like our bodies.

The song ended.

He blinked and seemed to come back to himself a bit. He backed away from me awkwardly. His light silver eyes had turned gray again. He grabbed another drink off of a passing tray, and smiled back at me as he made his way into the crowd whooping and hollering. Another song had come on and people had begun to mosh. I joined the fray, remembering that this night was about fun.

When Draco had jumped onto a table and was swinging his hips around practically screaming, "I WANNA ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT, AND PARTY EVERY DAY!" I knew it was time to go. I pulled him down to boos from the crowd, who were enjoying his drunken antics. I marched him out of the club. He had his jacket slung over his shoulder and was weaving drunkenly around so that I had to support him.

I decided it would be best to ride back, so I walked with him just a little ways onto the moor and called for Bones. There was a rusling of wings and my "cat" landed in front of us. His wings folded smoothly against him as he grew rapidly. The black horse lowered itself to the ground and I sat Draco on his back. I got on in front of him.

"Hold on tight." I said loudly over my shoulder as Bones raised himself off the ground.

"I'd hold on to anything you asked me to." He slurred. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Nooo I'm...I'm serious. You say jump, I say...on what?" he grinned and raised one of his eyebrows in what I'm sure he imagined was a sexy way.

I really laughed that time. Bones whinnied impatiently.

"Ok Bonsie...AWAY!"

Bones reared, neighed and took off into the night.

On the ride home, Draco scooted up really close to me and put his cheek on mine. He murmured,

"I lllove you. I...I really do."

Even though my heart fluttered all the way up into my brain, and my insides were dancing the conga, I said,

"Sure ya do."

When we reached the back door that led into the kitchen, Draco chose that moment to sing loudly,

"I WANNA ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT AND PARTY EVERY DAY!!!"

I hastened to make shushing noises as we went inside, but he just laughed and went,

"Oooh Shhhhhh SHHHHH!"

"God, just be quiet!" I whispered frantically, but too late.

"THEY'RE IN THE KICTHEN, NARCISSA!"

And my father burst into the room, his chest heaving, with Narcissa close behind him, looking distinctly ruffled. Her hair was messed, and her makeup was a little smudged. Draco glared at her.

"Well well well..." he said as though _she_ was the one who'd just slipped into the house. "What have you been doing tonight, mother dearest?"

"I could ask you the same question!" she snarled. He laughed and I saw her rage soar higher. _Please make him stop_, I thought desperately. Then my father looked at me, his turquoise eyes raging like a stormy sea. I gulped.

TO BE CONTINIUED...


	7. The last Ravenclaw

Well, I'll spare you the finer points of what happened when we were caught sneaking in, except to say that my father swore (a LOT), and Narcissa came to have a permanently scandalized look on her face. Naturally, Narcissa and my father wouldn't let me leave for my room until I had told them the whole story so I decided on the spot not to lie. (Partly because I knew I couldn't get away with it, but mostly because there was no way I could make up a story good enough.) Draco just sat there smiling and swaying throughout the entire tale, occasionally saying things like, "That's right!" and "How you like me now, Mum?!" Which of course, didn't help. Narcissa marched Draco out of the front door an hour later, saying a very curt goodbye to my father and giving me an awfully nasty look.

So that night was a flop overall, and I worried about what kind of trouble Draco would be in when he came around. As for me, my father simply stopped speaking to me all together, save for that night (after Narcissa left) he'd said that I'd disgraced him and the family name. Well, actually he shouted it, along with several choice swearwords. I wasn't too terribly bothered by his silent treatment, but it was still a little depressing. I felt more alone than ever over the next few days, and I was thankful that September first was only a week away.

On the last day before summer break ended, I went to my fathers' study hoping to make amends. I had my hand on the doorknob, feeling hesitant. What if he just shouted at me to get out? On the other hand, this was my last chance to speak to him before term started. I gathered what little courage I had, held my breath and stepped into the room.

He wasn't there. I remembered that he had a job, and realized he was probably at work.

The study was a dark, wood paneled room, with a fine, shining finish. It was not very large, but large enough to be more than comfortable. There was a handsome engraved slate fireplace, and a great mahogany desk, strewn with parchment and papers. The head of a Nundu was mounted on the far wall, and the other walls had gleaming swords shining decoratively on them. There was a bookshelf on one side of the room, and on the other side there was a huge hematite rack bearing yellowing scrolls.

The scrolls intrigued me. For the first time I was feeling curious about my pure blood lineage. My mother had told me nothing of my father's family except that they were pure blooded. I examined the scroll at the very front and saw that it had a date written on it. I quickly looked at the other scrolls and deduced that they were in order from the newest family members to the oldest. I picked up the first scroll and spread it out on the table.

I saw my fathers' name and Hogwarts house (Slytherin) at the very top and a line from his name to mine, which looked as though it had been scribbled there very recently. My mother's name had never been written. I took a ballpoint pen out of my pocket and wrote: "Sedna Tiffany Skye: Ravenclaw". Then I drew a line connecting her to me, but not to my father. I smiled in a satisfied way, and proceeded to read the scroll.

Once I had finished with the first one, I put it back and moved on to the next one. After I was done with that, I put it back and picked up the one after it, and so on and so fourth. On the third scroll, I realized with a jolt that Draco Malfoy was my One hundred and eighth cousin. I didn't think it counted though…

On the fifth scroll I saw that my surname came from a man named Cephus Blakely and he was a Slytherin. I was astonished to see that all of my relatives in my direct line before Cephus were Ravenclaws, and most of the ones after him had been Slytherins…It was most curious indeed.

The sun had begun to set when I picked up the eleventh scroll…the last one. It was the oldest and I unrolled it with great care. I traced my direct family line back to the year 912 A.D. I saw that the next to last people in my line had been named Helena and Athena. Athena's line continued whereas Helena's was cut off. _Poor Helena_, I thought. _No kids. _I looked at the last name on the ancient parchment…. but no…something incredible…something _impossible…_and yet…

Suddenly green flames erupted in the grate and I saw a figure spinning inside it. I quickly rolled up the scroll with much less care than I had unrolled it with and shoved it behind all the other scrolls. I then dashed out of the room closing the door behind me just as I saw my father's foot emerging from the brilliant green fire.

* * *

My mind was racing all throughout the night, so that when my father woke me up at 7 in the morning I was incredibly irritable. My father said nothing to me as we made the journey to London and this time, I was a little put off by it. He resolutely stared in the other direction as I boarded the Hogwarts express. I leaned out of the window and stared at his rapidly shrinking figure, my brow furrowed, as the train sped away. 

When I leaned back in, I felt something indecently heavy collide with my midsection and I looked down. Ruby was grinning widely at me underneath her blazing red fringe. I hugged her back and asked her how her summer went.

"Dorian visited me!" she said excitedly.

"Really, now?" I asked as we walked to find an empty compartment.

"Yes…and guess what?" she added in a whisper.

"What?" I whispered back.

"He kissed me!" she said dramatically.

Oh, just great. My twelve-year-old sister/friend had gotten more action than me this summer.

* * *

Lonna, Ike, and Dorian joined Ruby and I halfway along the train. We managed to find an empty compartment at the very back. 

As we sat down, I noted that Ruby and Dorian were acting completely normal to each other, though perhaps, they looked at one another more often than was necessary. Then they would blush slightly and look away, which was of course, very cute. I let them carry on about their summers for a bit, while I stroked a purring Bones in my lap. When they had finished, they all looked expectantly at me. I immediately launched into my adventure with Malfoy, leaving out the racy bits of course. They hung on my every word.

A little while later, a boy with mouse brown hair and distinct air of over-excitement handed me a note. It was an invite to a little luncheon with a Professor Slughorn in compartment C. I told my four that I would come back as soon as I could.

As soon as I emerged into the corridor, I walked straight into Harry Potter.

"Oh hi, Harry."

He grinned and straightened his glasses.

"Hullo Dahlia."

We stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then I noticed the slip in his hand.

"You going to his compartment too?" I asked.

"Yeah." he said a little ruefully. Neville shuffled into my peripheral vision.

"Hey Nev." I said to him.

"Hey." he murmured.

"Well guess we should get a move on then." I said brightly.

"We do?" He said. I laughed.

As we walked towards the front of the train, people seemed to just hurtle out of nowhere to stare at Harry. He seemed very irritated by this, and so I didn't mention it, which I think he appreciated. When Cho Chang saw him in the corridor, she dashed into her own compartment and when we walked by, we saw that she had struck up a conversation with her friend Marietta.

"Look, the specky sneak." I said. Harry grinned.

"How is Cho, anyway?" he asked curiously.

"I dunno, I stopped talking to her after she wouldn't hear a word against Marietta."

Harry looked heartened.

"That reminds me, I can do a Patronus now." I said mildly. "It's an Octopus." I added, when Harry looked at me questioningly.

We had arrived at compartment C. We saw immediately that we were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

"Harry, m'boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat.

"Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom, and Ms. Blakely!"

Neville nodded, looking scared. I smiled brightly and shook his fat hand. At a gesture from Slughorn, we sat down opposite each other in the only empty seats, which were nearest the door. I looked around to see who else had been invited. There was a Slytherin from my year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes (I'd seen him sitting with Draco often); there were also two seventh-year boys I didn't know and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny Weasley.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked us. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course --"

Zabini did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, nor did Harry or Neville: Gryffindor and Slytherin students loathed each other on principle. However, he smiled and looked me up and down most obscenely. It must have taken a great deal of will power on his part not to wink.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other … ? No?"

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him. I smiled politely.

"… and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether …?"

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.

"… and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.

Ginny grimaced at us from behind Slughorn's back. I tried to suppress a smirk.

Slughorn then proceeded to pass out luncheon, whilst interrogating the other passengers. Marcus Belby didn't do that well, Cormac McLaggen did very well, Neville's performance seemed to remain ungraded, and Zabini didn't do too badly either. The only people left to be interrogated now were Harry, Ginny, and I. It was rather unpleasantly shocking when Slughorn rounded on me next.

"My, my, Dahlia Blakely...I must say you do look quite as lovely as your mother, but you have your father's eyes of course. Both of your parents were rather brilliant, I don't think anyone was surprised when they got married. Natural attraction, you know? Can't deter it."

My insides had suddenly turned to ice. Slughorn plowed on.

"Your mother, now there was a young lady who, as the young people say, 'had it all'." he said genially. "Had a real gift for expression, amazing potioneer, a conversation extraordinaire, and her dancing! She could make fairies look heavy; she was so light on her feet! Ah--do you dance, Dahlia?" he asked, a hungry look in his eye.

"...She taught me a thing or two." I said modestly.

"I'll bet she did." Zabini said suddenly. Then he smiled at me, which made me feel slightly sick. Slughorn didn't seem to notice.

"Ahh there's the modesty of your father in there too, I see." he said, nodding. "His intellect was more under the surface, a very quiet young man. In fact, I wasn't even aware of his genius until Sedna brought him around to one of my little parties. But I suppose it must have been there for quite a while, otherwise he wouldn't've made head of department at the Ministry!" he laughed at his own weak joke. "Ahh how is Seth these days?"

"Ohh..he's well...ah...yes, he's quite well." I sipped my pumpkin juice loudly. Slughorn smiled in what I'm sure he thought was a fatherly way, but it suggested to me that he knew more about the situation then I was letting on.

"And now," said Slughorn, shifting massively in his seat with the air of a compere introducing his star act. "Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!"

He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"

Harry said nothing. Belby, McLaggen, Zabini and I were all staring at him.

"Of course," said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, "there have been rumors for years... I remember when … well … after that terrible night …Lily … James … and you survived … and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary …"

Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused skepticism. An angry voice burst out from behind Slughorn.

"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented... at posing..."

I snorted and quickly wiped the smile off my face, but as it turned out, I hadn't needed to.

"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking around at Ginny, who was glaring at Zabini around Slughorn's great belly. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn't cross her!"

Zabini looked contemptuous. I stared at his haughty features, trying to etch dislike into every corner of my face. Zabini saw me looking and raised one eyebrow in exactly the same way that draco often did. Was it down in the Slytherin handbook somewhere that you had to do that to every cute girl you came across?

"...given the number of witnesses," Slughorn was saying "that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"

Harry nodded but still said nothing. Even I was interested at this point because my father had come home bearing the very same rumors earlier in the summer...when he was still talking to me.

Slughorn beamed at Harry.

"So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond … you were there, then? But the rest of the stories … so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe … this fabled prophecy, for instance …"

"We never heard a prophecy," said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it.

"That's right," said Ginny staunchly. "Neville and I were both there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual."

"You were both there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile.

"Yes... well... it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course..." Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Gwenog telling me (Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead

Harpies) …"

He meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence, but I had the distinct impression that Slughorn had not finished with them, and that he had not been convinced by Neville and Ginny. By the look on Harry's face, he suspected the same thing.

The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Finally, the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise … anytime you're passing. Same goes for you, ladies," he twinkled at Ginny and I. We exchanged looks, which made us grin, and look away, trying to suppress giggles.

"Well, off you go, off you go!"

Since I was nearest the compartment door, I was the first to dash out. I strode along the corridors, which were much less packed than when I received the invitation. I passed compartments, not really looking at what was inside them, for I was anxious to get back to my four, who must have been wondering where I was. Then, for the second time on The Hogwarts Express, I did a double take.

Draco was in the compartment to my immediate right. His Tanks were on the other side of the compartment, looking both confused and stupid as usual. Then I saw, with a rush of hot anger that Draco was not just lying down, but had his head in the lap of the Pug/girl. I stood and stared at him. He had his eyes closed serenely as the Pug/girl stroked his hair gently. I think I must have been staring at him for so long that he sensed my gaze and he suddenly looked up at me. He stared at me for a moment and I smiled at him. He made a motion to the Pug/girl that indicated "one moment", and got up. I felt a thrill of pleasure. He was coming to talk to me! He came up to the door and seemed to be doing something with his arm on the right side of it. I smiled even more widely at him. He looked at me expressionlessly. Then, quite suddenly, the blinds closed.

Pain, humiliation, and anger seemed to flow through my veins all at once, like boiling water. I was surprised that steam didn't gush out of my ears. Half formulated plans of revenge sprang to my mind. Oh yes, I would unleash my scorn upon him, like which hell hath no fury.

"Mmm, waiting for me, eh? Can't say I blame you." said a cool voice to my right. I whirled around at the speaker furiously. It was Zabini.

I opened my mouth to tell him to go and stick his head in a bucket of cold water, when I had an idea. An awful idea. I had a wonderful, awful idea. I smiled and made my very first attempt at the look that Narcissa had given my father. (You know the one.)

"And so what if I was?" I said softly.

He leaned in close to me and smiled. I had to admit he was rather dashing, if a complete asshole.

"Well then...I just may have to take you to an empty compartment." he said quietly. I was nauseated, but I didn't let it show on my face. I just smiled that coy smile my mother passed on to me.

"Maybe some other time."

"Don't make me wait too long, darling." he actually winked that time, and then he slid the door to the compartment open.

I didn't watch him go in but instead turned and walked away immediately so that he would have a nice view of my backside. I swished my hips a little bit for effect, but by the sound of it, he was having a little trouble closing the door, so I stopped.

I couldn't explain the rush I felt as I walked back to my compartment. I suddenly understood that this was why some women chose to be temptresses (like Narcissa Malfoy). There was power in it. It was the kind of power you could draw on with little effort and tremendous effects. Why, women _did_ have the upper hand in relationships after all! We could make up for our emotional instability with the ability to drive a man crazy. This revolutionary idea put a smile of deep satisfaction on my face. I sang the words to "Some like it hot" under my breath as I made my way back to the compartment.


	8. An awful idea

As I straightened my blue striped tie with my back to Ruby and Lonna, I caught a glimpse of the turrets and towers of Hogwarts outside the window. I felt that odd sense of clarity come back to me in a rush. That isn't to say that my intentions changed of course, but rather they become more absolute. I felt my heated impassioned anger ebbing away, to be replaced by an undeniable sensation of purpose. Really, at the time I was rather foolish to be focused on something so material and insubstantial. But I was young, and when you are young, things that probably aren't that important seem to be the basis on which you build your teenage world, I see that now. Back then, however, it was an entirely different matter.

I turned around and looked at Ruby and Lonna. They didn't seem to notice that I'd turned around and were taking turns sticking out their chests and comparing…well…you know. I coughed loudly and they both jumped comically. Ruby flushed as red as her hair and tie; Lonna looked at the floor. I spared them the lecture and merely said passively as I dragged my trunk down from the rack,

"It's normal."

Suddenly Lonna burst out in her twittery voice,

"Why aren't ours as big as yours?"

It had in fact, occurred to me that they were using me as their standard for comparison. That was something I'd tried to push out of my mind, lest I get conceited.

"Well you haven't uhh..._developed_ yet. Yours might actually be bigger than mine when you get to my age, but even if they're not, it's okay."

They seemed reassured, and I smiled to further that. Bones curled around my ankles once more then leapt up onto the seat, and transforming into a hawk mid-jump, soared out of the window. I think he enjoyed being a bird most at Hogwarts; the scenery from the air must have been lovely. The train gradually slowed to a stop and there was a mad rush in the corridors, owing no doubt, to the growling stomachs of the students.

I too, was famished and eager to get up to the feast. Ike and Dorian, who had adjourned to a separate corridor while we girls were changing, joined us halfway up the train.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a snargaluff." Ike moaned.

"_I'm_ so hungry, I could eat a nundu." Dorian topped.

"No you couldn't," said Ruby, looking back at Dorian. "It would probably eat_ you_!"

"Probably." He said, grinning.

His quiet eyes brightened every moment he looked at her. I realized that this was a private moment and snapped my head foreword.

We managed to get a carriage to ourselves and as I sat there waiting for the invisible thestral to take us up, I saw Draco Malfoy pass by, arm in arm with his girlfriend. The rush of jealousy threatened to overwhelm me again, so I turned away and looked elsewhere, casting around in my brain for something new to think about. The hook fell on the name upon the antique scroll in my father's study. Indeed, _that_ was more overwhelming than anything I felt for Draco. To think that I was an heir of--

"Dahlia? Dahlia, we're here!"

I jerked out of my reverie and saw Lonna leaning inside the carriage, looking deeply concerned for me.

"Are you all right?" she asked, as I stepped down. "You had a funny look on your face."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

It never ceased to amuse me how she could just declare things baldly, without a flinch. It was she, who'd said all those months ago on my first train ride, "You're American."

Upon entering the Great Hall, my eyes immediately found the ghost of our house sitting near the front of the table. She was misty and forlorn as usual. She glared fiercely however, when the Slytherin ghost came through the wall and sat at his table. I wondered why.

Cho Chang smiled at me and I returned it, but only out of politeness. She sat down and instantaneously began chattering away with her friends. Lonna and I moved down toward the front end but leaving room for the new first years. The sorting took place shortly but I found that I was rather bored throughout. When it was over I turned and faced the table. I had ended up sitting across from The Grey Lady. Once again, her face jumped out at me, and I felt as though she were a long lost relation. I searched the pit of my abdomen for the source of this feeling and recognized that my intuition was telling me that's exactly what she was. Yes! There was the slightly crooked jaw of my father! She raised her eyebrow curiously and I realized that I had been staring at her for a full minute. I quickly looked away towards the staff table.

With a rush of loathing I saw Snape just getting into his seat. Snape, who had never relented in robbing me of my God-given right to show off my potions brilliance, was deeply despised by all except his own students. It actually hurt my eyes to look at him so I shifted them around The Grey Lady and my eyes fell upon Draco Malfoy, looking unexplainably smug. Perhaps I'd looked too long, for his stony gray eyes quickly jumped to my turquoise peepers. He spared me one second of an expressionless gaze before returning to his conversation. He nudged the boy sitting next to him and nodded in my direction. I saw it was Zabini and he in turn, smiled devilishly at me. I smiled back in an equally risquéway.

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed a voice to my right. I jumped and looked around. Ginny Weasley was standing next to me, looking fierce.

"What are you talking about?" I said, alarmed.

Ginny plopped herself down on the bench next to me, still looking like a vicious hellcat.

"_Why_ are you making eyes at scum like that?" she demanded, jerking her flaming red head at the Slytherin table.

"Oh…" I felt heat blooming in my cheeks.

"Harry said you and _that _were saying some very disturbing things to each other once we were out of Slughorn's compartment." She accused. My eyes snapped onto Harry, who was still wearing his regular clothes. How had he heard that? There was no time to work that out now. I was too embarrassed and…slightly annoyed that Ginny cared so much. Ginny didn't know me. We were acquaintances (what with the D.A. and all) but we certainly weren't bosom friends, therefore her concern in this matter was entirely unwarranted.

"Look, why does it matter?" I asked. It took a great deal of resolve to stop myself from adding _'because frankly, it's none of your business.'_

"It matters because he's a douche, and you're not."

I was a little surprised that Ginny, who came from a pureblood family, would know that word. Nevertheless--

"It's personal okay?"

She looked at me in a don't-give-me-that-bull-shit kind of way, but all the same she said,

"Fine."

And she left the table.

I sighed with relief…I admitted I had not foreseen that little problem, but then, that's why I wasn't in divination.

I ate ravenously, and with very little table manners. Lonna on the other hand ate bird sized portions to go with her bird sized voice. Her table manners astounded me most of the time. She pristinely cut her roast beef into nibble sized portions and forked them into her mouth, chewing for at least five seconds before swallowing.

"Who taught you to eat like that?" I finally asked during dessert.

"My mother." She said simply. She then put half a spoonful of pudding daintily into her mouth.

"Geez, you eat like you're not even hungry, girl." I remarked as I shaved the icing off of my cake and shoved it in greedily.

The Grey Lady sighed loudly and got up to leave the table abruptly. Of course, she got offended because she couldn't eat even the tiniest pea. I stared after her for a moment, and then plunged into a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

After that gargantuan meal, I was surprised I could even walk up the staircase to our dormitory. I lumbered along, tired and relaxed. The chatter of my fellow Ravenclaws was soft and sleepy. Padma walked past, sheparding the new first years.

"How was your summer?" she asked me quietly.

"Not bad," I said, not wishing to go into detail about the Club fiasco.

"My father wanted to take Parvati and I out of the country." she said sadly.

"Geez."

"I know. We talked him out of it though."

"Well good."

She nodded, yawning. We had arrived at our common rooms' entrance. It was tradition that the new first years be the ones to try and answer the question our eagle knocker asked. It was a rite of passage.

A very small girl with blonde hair took the inititive and walked up to the eagle knocker, knocked once and hurried back into the small cluster of first years.

It recited,

_"Man is to Quintaped as what is to Bowtruckle?"_

the first years looked amongst each other uncertainly, clearly aware that the whole house was watching them. Then a boy so small he looked as though he had some hobbit in him, said loudly,

"Fairy eggs?"

_"Indeed."_ said the knocker serenely. The door swung foreward.

The other Ravenclaws applauded the tiny boy and patted him on the back as they passed. I could only give him an approving smile; I was far too tired to do much else.

In our dormitory, our trunks had been settled neatly under our beds, and I think we were all ready for a nice long sleep. I pulled back my soft, silky blue comforter and settled myself under the sheets without taking my clothes off, as was my habit. I used my wand to draw the hangings closed, and I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

"It's time to get up!"

I opened my eyes blearily and saw Padma looking at me through my hangings.

"What happend to your little clock?" she asked in a softer voice; perhaps my expression worried her.

"I think I forgot it." I said, rubbing my eyes.

"Well you can always write home for it I suppose." she said, turning away.

"I suppose my letter would go straight in the fire," I muttered.

I rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

As I looked in the mirror and studied my face, I couldn't help but stare into my own eyes. The light and vibrant blue iris seemed to me, like a shimmering glacier pool. In it reflected all the power that only supreme knowlege comes with. I had to get a grip on myself. I had to make myself believe that I was just like everybody else. It was the only way to stop myself from wildly proclaiming my ancestry and being cast into the bright spotlight. I picked up one of the soft blue wash cloths that lay neatly folded next to the sink. Running it under the warm water made my hands feel good in the cold mornings. Putting it on my face when it was good and hot made me feel even better.

In our dormitory, the bathroom had four separate shower stalls and four sinks set below silver gilded mirrors. The walls were white marble, just like the ones in my father's house. There were many magnificent silver brushes and combes lining the counter tops. The showers were stocked with perfumed soaps and luxurious loofas. It seemed that Ravenclaws of old took great pride in their appearance and beauty. We, the Ravenclaw sixth year girls enthusiastically upheld that tradition. Every morning we giggled and compared our own looks and styles. Padma and I had the longest hair which Mandy and Evelyn greatly envied. She and I would take turns either braiding or brushing each others hair during down time. I had always thoroughly enjoyed having my hair and scalp touched or brushed, so this was a plus in my opinion. Beauty regimes for all but a few Ravenclaw girls can go on for hours and one half hour at the very least. It is an inherited need, not just for me but for every girl who finds herself a Ravenclaw.

That first morning as a sixth year I had left my long hair flowing all around my shoulders, after brushing it 100 strokes. I felt pretty that sunny morning. Not a ravishing beauty perhaps, but definitely pretty. I swung my bag suggestively on my shoulder and twirled my new quill around my fingers as I strolled down the hallways with Padma. I was not so interested in breakfast as I was in seeing Draco again. Even though he had snubbed me the night before, I still wanted to see him, just to look at him. I felt a mixture of shame, weakness, and excitement as we streamed in through the open doors of the Great Hall.

He wasn't there yet, of course.

I sighed and was making my way with Padma to our usual spot at the table in the very middle, when a hand closed around my elbow. I turned around, wondering who had my arm.

It was Blaise. He was smiling down at me. I had almost forgotten my diabolical plan of the night before, and it came rushing back to me in a flash of high cheekbones.

"Radiant as usual, Dahlia." he said, as his hand slid gracefully off my arm and came to rest at his side.

"You don't look too shabby yourself...Blaise."

I said his name for the first time and he seemed to take as much pleasure from hearing it as I had when Draco said mine.

"Come sit by me today, love." he said quietly.

I decided to give in to this request, but on my own terms.

"After Flitwick gives me my schedule I'll be over."

and here I tickled his chin with the end of my quill. He seemed very pleased.

Padma looked at me appraisingly as I took my seat beside her. I grinned back smugly and poured myself a glass of orange juice. I could tell Blaise was watching me the whole time I waited for my schedule, and I pointedly ignored his gaze, talking animatedly with Padma. And when Professor Flitwick finally gave me my schedule, I took my time reading it through before scooping up my bag, grinning widely at Padma, and making my way over to the Slytherin table.

I think Blaise must have explained my presense because the other Slytherins raised no objections upon my arrival. He stood up when I reached the table and sat down when I sat down. He was a gentleman, if a complete asshole.

"Hi." I breathed to the other Slytherins that Blaise sat with. Draco was there and the Pug girl, too. The Tanks, and some others that I recognized from the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were gracious, and curious about me, saying hi back to me in a perfectly friendly way. But Pansy... looked at me like an insect. A dangerous insect, which must be squashed quickly. Draco didn't look at me at all.

"So how is your father dealing with all these pointless new travel restrictions?" Pansy asked me.

"As well as can be expected." I said mildly.

"It must be terribly inconvienient for you." she said with a mock attempt at sympathy.

"Well," I began, feeling a rise of superiority. "That's the thing about being a natural traveller. You have to be versatile; ready for anything."

She nodded in an exceedingly snobbish fashion and her smile was something of a leer to me.

"So really," I continued "my father has no problem keeping up with new times."

I smiled widely at her. She returned it, but in a way that shot sparks my way. Did she know, could she tell, that the object of my affections was her boyfriend? Draco had looked away toward the doors during our exchange and looked back only when the subject had been changed. Blaise, meanwhile, simply gazed at various parts of my features hungrily. He stared, grinning, with his elbow on the table. I don't think he heard a word I'd said the entire time.

Eventually, the bell signaling first hour rang, and everyone picked up their bags and headed off. The other Slytherins shook my hand and smiled, with all the "Nice to meet yous" I could hope for. Pansy's hand shot out for Draco's as soon as he straightened up from the table, as though he were a small child that would wander if left unchained. I had to move quickly. I planted a swift kiss on Blaise's cheek and said softly (but not so softly that Draco could not hear it),

"I'll see you later."

I was pleased to see Draco's head turned towards me out of the corner of my eye as I glided away on those short footsteps. I cannot be sure if he was looking at me, as I could not see him directly but it was encouraging.

I had a free period first hour, and decided to spend it in the courtyard reading one of the charming Muggle novels that Ruby had lent me.

I sat down on the steps that led to the courtyard, underneath the huge chiming clock tower and opened _Memoirs of a Geisha. _I soon became immersed once more in Sayuri's desperate and unending love for the Chairman. I felt that I was like her; as she was forced to turn her attention to Nobu, I was forced to bestow my own to Blaise. I stared into space, consumed by my own thoughts and desires, when quite suddenly I had that queer feeling that someone was watching me. I looked up instinctively and saw Draco standing across the dark stone, looking at me. He stared intensely, his eyes narrowed. I was surprised that he would be so bold as to stare at me directly in public, but lo, I looked around and there was nobody else there. There was suspicion in his gaze, not jealousy or longing, which disconcerted me. His curious silver eyes flicked between each of mine, searching, but for what? He turned abruptly and strode away, off toward the staircases leading to the upper levels. I watched the back of his white blonde head until it turned a corner and was gone. I reluctantly turned my gaze back to the book, but found that I was too flummoxed to continue reading it. I got up.

After walking through the grounds for a short while, the bell rang for second hour and I sighed, shuffling back up to the school.

I reached the defense against the dark arts classroom last, behind Ronald Weasley. I could hear Hermione Granger complaining loudly about the amount of homework she'd been given.

"You wait," she was saying resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke, and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately, and I felt a renewed rush of loathing for that waxen man.

"Inside," he said.

"Him and his one word sentances..." I mumbled. Ronald snickered and looked around at me. Upon seeing me, his face fell somewhat and he turned to face the front again. I could have sworn he whispered something to Harry Potter, because he turned and crained his neck to look at me as well. I barely registered what had happend before Harry looked away as Ronald had.

The room was quite different from last year, it was as if Snape cast a malevolent air wherever he disgraced. Like a greasy virus, he seemed to give me a bad taste in my mouth. It was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures. I found a seat beside Padma, but I was hailed by name, from somebody else. I looked around and saw Blaise waving me over to the table in the corner. I hesitated. There were only Pansy and Draco that this table with him and I was slightly wary of approaching them. Padma grinned at her twin and shoved me playfully over. I looked back at her indignantly, but she and Parvati were shaking with giggles. I hitched up a radiant smile and sat down gracefully with Blaise who put his arm around me. Pansy, noticing this gesture, placed her hand on Draco's thigh. Then his hand came up and closed on hers.

Fighting back the urge to cuss, or slap her pug face, I turned my head to the front. Then I remembered whose class this was, and sighed.

"...Very well...Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to

perform," said Hermione, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of

Spells, Grade Six," said Snape dismissively, and Draco sniggered. I saw Hermione go red and look down, defeated. I wanted to call out to her, tell her that he wasn't half the magician she was, but saw that Pansy, Draco, and Blaise were all looking at Snape with admiration. So I too, smirked.

"...element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of

concentration and mind power which some.."

--his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry Potter--

"lack.You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

Truthfully, it wasn't a bad lesson. It was a lot less annoying than when Snape's ideas about potion making and mine differed greatly, causing the unpleasent friction between us. But since I wasn't an expert in the dark arts (Not that I'm saying I was an expert in Potions ; ) it wasn't unpleasent in the least. Blaise turned out to be quite intelligent, if a complete asshole. At the end of class he invited me to a private lunch in the grounds with him.

"Surely." I'd said, as Draco walked away, arm in arm with Pansy.

When lunch rolled around, Blaise seemed to spring out of nowhere and took my hand, leading me out to the grounds before I'd even reached the Great Hall.


	9. Sacrifices

_Chapter 9 notes: Well I've decided to title my chapters, simply because it is fun. ah...hmm. These notes really aren't that informative. Oh I am planning to make little Yahoo avatars of all the charachters which I'll Put on my myspace, and also I drew a picture of Dahlia and her mom to be put on my deviantart account soon so, I'll let you know. Love you guys, X._

Leading me down the stairs, Blaise swelled with pride and arrogance, so pleased with himself. He grinned smugly to his fellow Slytherins who eagerly looked from me to him...it seemed like they were silently congradulating Blaise on his fine catch. It made me feel more like an object than anything else; something to be coveted and shown around. My heart pulsed with rage at this treatment, but my face was the mask of a humble and beautiful woman. With my eyes cast down, smiling demurely, I felt like a Geisha.

Blaise ushered me down the steps and onto the great lawn. The clouds were patchy and there were odd streaks of sunlight all over the grounds. Blaise and I walked in silence for a while, and I noticed his expression had gone from smug and pleased, to bored and haughty. He slipped his arm out of mine and chose to take my hand instead. His grip was uncomfortably tight, and I involuntarily resisted him. He looked at me sharply and smiled in a strange way, then he squeezed my hand even tighter. My heart rose up into my throat and began to pound with nervous pulses. I was deeply unsettled by this behavior (it suggested a controlling personality), but I did my best to look as though I found his reaction attractive. He seemed pleased and gave me a half smile, before looking away toward the forest. I had no desire to go anywhere near the Forbidden Forest, (its gnarled, swaying branches gave me chills) so I said to him in a soft voice,

"Don't you want to go to the lake?"

His face had fallen again into its uniform imperious expression. He glanced at me and nodded. We turned around and headed towards the rippling mass of water.

Once we arrived at the lake, we sat under a large tree. The silence between us was incredibly uncomfortable. Blaise was staring away towards the castle and I contented myself by focusing on the lakes' shining surface. In a desperate attempt to start a convorsation, I said to him,

"You know, days like this kind of remind me of the sierras. Where I was born."

He looked at me, sipped his butterbeer, nodded. So much for that.

A couple of minutes later I decided to try again.

"So where d'you live?" I asked. He seemed to brighten and looked around at me.

"Our manor is in a secluded place in the midlands. It was my mothers third husbands place. Very nice."

"Yes it sounds lovely." I said admiringly.

"Oh and during the summer we get the best..."

And so it was. The secret to communicating with Blaise Zabini was simply to keep the convorsation about him. I listened attentively, nodded occasionally, and passed him compliments whenever he drew breath. By the time the bell for class rang, Blaise was hanging on me, describing in detail his new broomstick.

"Well time to go..." I said pretending to be rueful.

"I have a free period now." he said quickly.

"Well I do too, but I really need to get on that homework from Snape." I said in my most feminine voice. He looked dissapointed, but brightened almost immediately and said,

"Let's go to the library and do it together, and I can finish telling you about the Cyclone 600..."

I smiled widely and enthusiastically agreed, though in my minds eye I had pulled out my wand and turned him into a snail.

An hour and a half later, I had made virtually no progress on the homework, and was full of useless facts about Blaise Zabini. I had never been so glad that class was starting.

Outside the Potions classroom I saw that Padma, Terry, and Lisa were standing in a small group. I hurried over to join them. Padma and Lisa looked at me eagerly, wanting to know how my date with Blaise went. I gave them a signifigant look which told them plainly that I'd tell them later. We all looked over our shoulders at the four Slytherins who had progressed to N.E.W.T level. Blaise winked at me, which sent Lisa and Padma into giggles. I saw Draco standing a little ways away, leaning against the wall insolently. I felt a leap of excitement at the classic bad boy stance. I also noticed that Pansy Parkinson had obviously not made it through, which made me even happier.

The dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. As we filed into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Harry, Blaise, and I with particular enthusiasm.

The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. Lisa, Padma and I sniffed interestedly as we passed large, bubbling cauldrons. As we walked by a gold colored one, I respired the most wonderful scent, one that seemed to contain the ocean spray, the kind of incense that my grandfather would burn, and an unknown musky smell that mingled faintly with cologne. I realized with a jolt that it was Amortentia! The most powerful love potion in the world. Even after we moved on and sat down, I continiued to stare at the potion with reverance.

"Now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."

"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything - nor's Ron - we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see -"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention . . . not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. . ."

Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ronald along with two sets of tarnished scales.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. I leaned across Padma and saw what looked like plain water boiling away inside it.

"Veritaserum..." I mumbled, raising my hand.

My hand was three quarters into the air when I saw that Slughorn was pointing at Hermione. I felt a stab of annoyance and put my hand down.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion thar forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione.

I allowed a soft "Huh." noise to escape my throat.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest our table, "this one here is pretty well known… Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too… Who can--?"

I saw the polyjuice potion and put my hand up quickly, but I was half a second too late.

"lt's Polyjuice Potion, sir," Hermione said.

This time my "Huh." was perfectly audible. Padma and Lisa looked at me, then glared at Hermione.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . . yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again.

"It's Amortentia!"

I felt slightly manic as I scowled at Hermione. I had always respected her intellect during D.A. meetings, and had many great cerebral conversations with her, but I had never been in a Potions class with her before and here I found her extremely annoying.

"It is indeed. Ir seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

I crossed my arms.

_"It's-the-most-powerful-love-potion-in-the world..." _I said under my breath in a mocking voice. Blaise, Draco, Millicent and Nott heard me and sniggered.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

I took the opportunity to look at what was in the fourth cauldron, while Granger gloried in her know-it-all-ism. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled. It was Felix Felicis, of course.

"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, pointing at the small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk.

"Oho," said Slughorn again. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called--"

"Felix Felicis!" I practically shouted.

Slughorn beamed at me, and said

"Quite right. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"

"It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"

I folded my arms again and mustered up all my resolve not to let out an angry, "Oh!" I was too indignant to even pay attention as Slughorn talked about Felix Felicis. I only came back to reality when I heard him say, as if from a great distance,

"...Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

It so happend that he didn't expect a perfect potion from anybody because the Draught of Living death takes at least three hours to make, and that's with my modified version. I lazily took out my potions supplies and notebook, thumbing though it for my modified version of the Draught.

"My, my, what is all this?" said Slughorn half an hour in as he stared down at my mixture of different muggle and wizarding potions supplies.

I always concentrate very hard when I am potion making, so I didn't answer right away. I added a few drops to my potion, which turned smoothly to black. I looked up at him and said,

"I have been incorporating all the concepts of complex chemistry into potions since I started school." I said politely. I was trying to make up for my outburst earlier.

"Well well. It's certainly offbeat..." he said, picking up my graduated cyllinder. "But no doubt effective. My dear, you are a true Ravenclaw."

He smiled genially.

"Thank you, sir."

Some time later, my potion was a light lilac color when Slughorn called,

"And time's up! Stop stirring please!"

When he came to our table, he looked into my cauldron and smiled widely at the potion, nodded to me and moved on.

Finally--

"The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are - one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"

I looked around almost wildly, trying to get a good look at Harry's potion. Lo and behold, it was palest pink. I looked at Harry's somewhat sheepish expression. Somehow his being good at potions didn't bother me as Granger's had. Probably because he wasn't an insufferable know-it-all about it. I smirked at this thought.

At dinner, I invited Blaise to sit with us, because Draco wasn't there (where he was, I don't know) and really what was the point of eating over there if he wasn't present? Though the Slytherins were kind enough to me, they were still deeply unpleasent in general, and I did not enjoy sitting over there. Blaise seemed to enjoy himself anyway. Lisa, Mandy, and Padma fawned over him.

When I had finished my strawberry tart, Blaise wasted no time in pulling me out to the entrance hall. He looked down into my face as the long twilight shadows flowed in through the windows.

"Fancy a walk?" he asked.

"Sure." I said.

We strolled through the halls, arm in arm, saying very little, and meeting very few. The shadows slowly turned from deep red to navy blue, and still we walked. Up on the sixth floor, It occured to me that I was going out with him. As if in response to this thought, Blaise suddenly led me behind a tapestry. It was a small, concealed little hallway that must've be a shortcut to somewhere. He pulled me around to face him quite roughly. Looking up into his finely carved face, it dawned on me what he was about to do. I didn't want to. I wanted Draco. I would always want Draco. As I looked up at him, I saw a solution.

When Blaise Zabini brought his lips to mine, I was not really kissing him. It was Draco that I was kissing in that tiny corridor. I was running my hands through his white blonde hair, and _his_ arms were around my waist, not Blaise's. I felt him there with me in that corridor, and I kissed him with all the feelings I had for him.

Blaise drew away and my shining soap bubble image of Draco and I was burst. I tried my very best to smile at Blaise, and he looked pleased. I realized just how much I detested him. I dismayed about how horrible I'd felt all day, and was no closer to Draco.

"You're a great snogger." he said quietly. "So passionate."

I felt myself blush.

The next day dawned bright and clear, and there I was. In the common room, perched on the wide window sil, I stared out at the misty blue mountains; my mind oddly blank. An owl fluttered past the window. I felt a pressure on my leg and looked down, alarmed.

It was Bones. He stepped, purring into my lap, and I reached up and scratched his ears. He purred louder. I had gone to bed with Draco on my mind and had many blurred dreams of a blonde haired man running away from me, a large building with many crooked hallways and confusing turns... and most frighteningly, a dark, shadowy stranger had stalked me throughout this mystery place. Mulling over this, I knew I didn't need Trelawney to tell me what it meant.

"Troubled?" said an oddly familiar voice off to my left.

I looked around and saw the Gray Lady hovering an inch or so off the ground. She stared at me with shrewd eyes.

"What makes you say that?" I asked lightly.

"Your expression." she replied, as if it were of no consequence to her.

I stared at her for a few moments, wondering if I should confide in her. Something in her calm face soothed me, and put me at ease. Why? Then I realized that her expression was that of my dead mothers. It had been so long since I'd seen someone looking at me with that kind of face that I hadn't recognized it immeadiately.

"I am currently executing a plan," I began.

She nodded solumnly.

"But I worry that my reasoning was all wrong, and that this plan will only take me further from the things I want."

She seemed to be in deep thought for more than a minute. I looked back out of the window.

Then--

"How long have you been working on this plan of yours?" she asked.

I frowened slightly.

"One day..." I mumbled feebly.

She smiled.

"Then the advice I can give to you is that only time will tell whether this plan of yours will work or not. You must be patient. You must perservere."

_But I can't_, I thought. _I want him to be mine now. I want to be his now. I can't be patient._

"For the things we want most..." she said, as if she knew exactly what I had just been thinking, "Sacrifices must be made. Even if they are your own."

I looked into the face that so resembled my fathers. She looked back at me, and even in her death, her eyes seemed to glow at me. The glow of knowlege like deep water was bestowed upon me. It dawned on me...she knew exactly who I was. What I was. She smiled again.

"Good day, Dahlia."

And she drifted through the wall.


	10. I spy

Honoring the Gray Ladys advice, I saw Blaise Zabini almost every day for the next two months. And I began to notice a change taking place in Draco Malfoy. His eyes steadily became more and more tired looking. His skin began to take on a grayish tinge. His hair was no longer gleaming and sleek, but mop topped and dull. What I had noticed the most though, is that by Halloween, whenever I sat with Blaise at the Slytherin table, Draco threw us reproachful looks so often it looked as though he had a twitch. Pansy Parkinson did not approve of these changes at all; she became less affectionate towards him, frequently starting arguments with him in the entrance hall at mealtimes. If he showed up for meals at all...This made it diffcult for me to display my realtionship with Blaise to him. But I had several classes with the Slytherins, thus several opportunities to grind in the fact I was belonged to Blaise and not Draco.

November came with billowing winds, hard frosts, and icy breath rising in mists. Cho Chang had replaced Roger Davies as Quidditch captain and was quite frighteningly determined to win. This furious desire seemed to have intensified since Gryffindors defeat of Slytherin. I had just come in from a frigid three hour Quidditch practice, my hair damp from the showers. My arms were sore from hitting the bludgers around, and my legs were stiff with cold from sitting on my broom for so long. I paused to readjust my glove straps when a tentative voice said,

"Er, Dahlia, can I talk to you?"

I looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing a little ways away looking wary of me. I knew why. I had been growing increasingly hostile and waspish towards her ever since that first Potions class with Slughorn (who, by the way, adored her.) I had to admit her powers of information retention were exceptional. While she was incapable of any kind of revolutionary thought, her mind seemed to have an infinite memory bank. She of course, didn't know that was all she'd done to upset me.

"Ah well.." I began loftily, gazing at her in a stony way. "I really need to get going...I still have tons of homework to do..."

"I'm going to the Library now..." she said hopefully.

"The Library is freezing, why don't you go to your common room?"

"Well Ron--I mean--I just work better in the Library."

I said nothing, but continiued to survey her coldly.

"Please?"

Her persistence piquoed my curiosity. What did she need to discuss with me? Could it be beneficial? I decided to take a chance.

"Fine then."

Once in the Library, Hermione and I were joined by Harry Potter.

"Now why are _you_ here?" I asked him rather sharply. He raised his eyebrows.

I did not apologize, but crossed my arms and looked away. Hermione looked from me to Harry as though she wished dearly that she were not about to say what she had to say.

"Erm...W-well...we're concerned about you." she said in a rather high pitched voice.

I stared at her.

"Y-you're a lot different than last year, and we were just wondering why."

"Why what?" I asked.

"Why...you're different." she said in an attempt at a casual tone.

I narrowed my eyes. Of course, this was about Blaise.

"Look I'll tell you what I told Ginny Weasley. This is my life, okay? I will date whoever I want to. So get out of it."

"But he's changing you!" she declared, abandoning all pretense. "You weren't like this last year...I know we've never been close friends but that doesn't mean we don't care! We were all in the D.A. together!"

Harry said nothing the entire time, but looked at me with a brooding expression. Hermione took a breath and stared at me imploringly.

"If there's something going on, please, we want to know." she said determinedly.

"Ugh, you wouldn't understand what I'm trying to do!" I said in a frustrated voice. Madam Pince glared at us from her desk. Harry, however leaned forward dramatically at these words. With a glance at the old Librarian he said,

"D'you think Draco Malfoy is up to something?"

Hermione immeadiately looked slightly embarassed and fiddled with a lock of her frizzy hair. Taken off guard by this outrageous claim, I said blankly,

"What?"

"I saw him in Diagon Alley, buying stuff from Knockturn Alley. And at Madam Malkin's, he jumped about a mile when she tried to touch his left arm. I think he's been made a Death Eater and..."

here he glanced at Hermione in a defiant kind of way.

"...I think he's been given a mission from Voldemort."

Biting my lower lip and thinking fast, I thought I saw a way out of this. I assumed a serious face and bent foreward.

I've suspected him from the night he was at my father's house with his mother. He seemed off, and so did she. I can't go into details here." I said, glancing over at Madam Pince again.

Hermione looked as if she had been confunded, but Harry looked triumphant. I went on,

"When I saw that Bla--er--Zabini liked me on the train, I saw my chance to get in with the Slytherins," I looked at Hermione. "And I'm sorry but I have to act convincing. I have to pretend I don't like you because you're Muggle born."

She looked surprised but gratified.

"What've you found out?" Harry whispered eagerly, waving away the Muggle born comment.

"Nothing yet." I said importantly "he's sharp. He keeps whatever he's doing to himself, that's for sure."

Harry leaned back and sighed, deflated.

"But give me time; I know I can bring him down."

"Let us know if you find anything out." he said.

"Definitely. We'll use the coins, huh?"

He nodded.

As I walked out of the Library, my broomstick over my shoulder, I thought slyly that Gryffindors trust way too easily.

(line break)

It wasn't until one icy night in late-November, (some two weeks after my meeting with Harry and Hermione) that I did any kind of investigating on Draco. It was close to 10 o'clock and Blaise was walking me back to Ravenclaw tower from one of Slughorn's little dinner parties. We had just done a hearty bit of making out behind our favorite tapestry, so I figured he was softened up enough to be in a divulging mood.

I clung to his arm, looking up at him admiringly.He in turn, smiled that self satisfied smile down at me.

"Blaise?" I said in my softest, most charming voice.

"Mmm?" he replied dreamily.

"You know that Draco Malfoy?"

He frowned slightly.

"What about him?"

"Have you noticed that he looks...unwell...lately?"

His haughty face came on.

"So?"

"Well, I mean, why d'you think that is?"

He shrugged.

"Oh come on Blaisie...you know something...you clever thing...tell me." I said, playing the part of the sweet girlfriend. I did my best to make it sound as if this was a minor thing of no real consequence. True to his nature, he buckled under my compliments.

"Well he's been fighting a lot with Pansy lately." He said conversationally. "But there's always been a little friction in their relationship. It's what happens when your parents arrange your life. They get along okay and seem to be compatible enough, but something is just off balance with them."

The "Malfoy-Is-a-Death-Eater" theory was blown quite out of my mind when I heard this information.

"What do you mean 'when your parents arrange your life' ?" I asked, not being careful to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Don't you know? Their parents have been pushing their relationship since they were children."

he looked at me then added suspiciously,

"Why are you so interested?"

"Oh I just wonder what goes on in the lives of the people who know _you_." I said recovering quickly, and giving him lovey dovey eyes.

"Can't get enough of me can you?" he said, smiling his 'I-am-so-awesome' smile.

I smiled back and kissed his cheek.

Once inside the common room, I saw that there were few people still up. I rubbed my eyes, which itched with tiredness. As I apporached the statue of my great ancestor, and the doors to the dormitories, I heard a small sound, like a baby bird twitter.

"Dahlia."

"Hey Lonna." I said, turning around.

She was sitting in one of the larger arm chairs, looking absurdly small by comparison.

"How're things with your _boyfriend_?" she asked.

I could tell by her tone that she was miffed with me.

"Fine..." I said slowly.

"Did you have fun?"

I definitely detected a note of anger in her voice.

"Is something wrong?" I queried.

"You were supposed to help me with my Charms homework!" she declared angrily.

"Ohh..." I moaned. I had completely forgotten my promise to her.

"But that's not all!" she went on, making a great deal of noise for such a small girl. "You've been doing that to all of us. You said you'd help Ike with his flying lessons, but oh no, Blaise _needed_ you to go with him to the match against Gryffindor. You were _going to_ sneak Ruby and Dorian into Hogsmeade so that they could have time together without their classmates to persecute them. But oh well, Blaise invited you out on a _date_, so Ruby and Dorian could just--" she swelled menacingly "--Bugger off! You've changed, Dahlia, face it." she finished, her small chest heaving.

"Lonna, I know you're intelligent. Surely _you_ understand that you four and I are at very different stages in our lives." I said coldly, very aware that those few who had stayed up were all looking at me.

"You spend all your time at the Slytherin table." she said quietly, her voice shaking now, "If you want to hang out with the Slytherins so badly, maybe you should join them."

She got up and stormed through the door on the left side of the statue. I heard another distant door slam. Honestly I would have preferred her shouting for another ten mintues if she had never said that. The stragglers stared at me, open mouthed. I didn't look at them too long though. I couldn't bear to see accusatory looks on my fellow Ravenclaws' faces.

_Run up the stairs and into your dormitory, close the door behind you; trying to shut out those words that ring in your ears, "Maybe you should join them." _

Pressing my forehead against the window, I tried to maintain clarity. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Draco Malfoy. Didn't I? Was he really worth it? Was he worth lying to people I had once known well and liked? Was he worth forsaking my little friends who needed and loved me? Was he worth humiliating myself for Blaise? Was the persuit of Draco Malfoy turning me like my father? Was he making the Slytherin genes that my great grandfather Cephus Blakely passed on to me, come to the surface? Pushing my fingers into my itchy eyes again, I blocked out these frantic thoughts and misgivings, remembering what the Gray Lady told me. Sacrifices must be made; for what I wanted. I assured myself that I wanted Draco Malfoy, and that once I had him, all would be well. I would be happy.


End file.
